THE 



BLUE COATS, 



AND HOW 



THEY LIVED, FOUGHT AND DIED FOR THE UNION. 

WITH SCENES AND INCIDENTS IN THE GREAT REBELLION. 



COMPRISING 



NARRATIVES OF PERSONAL ADVENTURE, THRILLING INCIDENTS, DARING 
EXPLOITS, HEROIC DEEDS, WONDERFUL ESCAPES, LIFE IN THE 
CAMP, FIELD AND HOSPITAL, ADVENTURES OF SPIES AND 
SCOUTS, TOGETHER WITH THE SONGS, BALLADS, ANECDOTES 
AND HUMOROUS INCIDENTS OF THE WAR. 

/ 

33 "ST C^ZFT^VIItT JOHH TK,TJESID-A.Ij33. 




SPLENDIDLY ILLUSTRATED WITH OVER 100 FINE PORTRAITS AND BEAUTIFUL ENGRAVING 



Op 



(Issued by subscription only, and not for sale In tbe book stores. Residents of any State 
desiring a copy should address the publishers, and an agent will call upon them.) 



NATIONAL PUBLISHING CO. 

PHILADELPHIA, PA. ; CINCINNATI, OHIO ; CHiCAGO, ILL. 
ST. LOUIS, MO. ; ATLANTA, GA. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by 
JONES BROTHERS & CO., 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, in and for the E«oter? 
District of Pennsylvania. 



TO 

- THE SURVIVING 

BLUE COATS 

OF 

THE ARMIES OP THE UNION 

THIS 



BOOK IS DEDICATED. 



/ 



PKEFACE. 



Among the many productions which the late war 
has drawn forth, the editor has thought there is room 
for such a volume as this, which he now offers to the 
reader — a volume which shall present a full and com- 
plete picture of the various phases of the life of a sol- 
dier, his battles, marches, sufferings, and privations, 
and such instances of personal daring and adventure 
as shone forth conspicuously during the four years of 
our civil strife. He is well aware, that full justice 
cannot be done to those brave men who, on land 
and sea, carried the " Stars and Stripes" in triumph 
throughout the entire length and breadth of that 
portion of the Union so lately in arms against 
the General Government, but he hopes and believes 
that those who wore the glorious "blue coat," will 
recognize the fidelity and truthfulness of the present 
volume, which aims solely to present to the country 
in a familiar and pleasant manner the claims of our 
heroes to the nation's gratitude. 

5 



6 



PREFACE. 



The selections herein embodied have been made 
carefully and faithfully from the current literature of 
the war, a task to which the editor has devoted con- 
siderable time and research. His aim has been to 
draw, from the mass before him, the most graphic and 
striking articles, those which would most forcibly re- 
call, to the survivors of the army and navy, the stir- 
ring scenes through which they passed so bravely, 
which would depict most truthfully their fortitude 
and heroism in adversity, in the hospital and prison, 
and render the amplest justice to those who proved 
their faith by their deeds and now lie sleeping in the 
swamps and amid the pines of the South. 

The book being devoted to such a purpose, it 
seemed but justice to give to it the title which it 
bears, a name now doubly dear to every true Ameri- 
can heart. 

J. T. 



This work will be beautifully illustrated with groups 
of the following Naval and Military Heroes, and 
prominent Rebel Generals; and will contain an ele- 
gant full-page steel portrait of Lieutenant-General 
Grant, besides numerous fine engravings of battle- 
scenes, etc. 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATION'S. 



PORTRAITS. 



L 


GENERAL GRANT, FRONTISPIECE. 


25. GENERAL 


BUTLER. 






MEADE. 


9ft " 


BANKS. 


3. 


u 


HANCOCK. 


27. 


SIGEL. 


4. 


M 


WARREN. 


28. 


HUNTER. 


5. 




WRIGHT. 


29. 


FREMONT. 


6. 


M 


" BALDY" SMITH. 


30. 


ORD. 


7. 


M 


SICKLES, 


31. 


McCLELLAN. 


8. 




HEINTZELMAN. 


32. ■ 


FOSTER. 


"9, LIEUT-GEN. SHERMAN. 


33. 


TERRY. 


10* GENERAL ROSECRANS. 


34. 


SYKES. 


11. 




LOGAN. 


35. « 


GLLLMORE. 


12. 




HOWARD. 


36. 


WALLACE. 


13. 


A 


SLOCUM. 


37. 


GARFIELD. 


14. 




ROBERT McCOOK. 


38. 


SCHOFIELD c 


15. 


II 


McCLERNAND. 


39. " 


SHERIDAN. 




LIEUTENANT-GENERAL SCOT! 


40. 


KTLPATRTCK. 


17. 


GENERAL HALLECK. 


41. « 


CUSTER. 


18. 


K 


DIX. 


42. 


BUFORD. 


19. 




CASEY. 


43. 


MERRITT. 


20. 




FRANKLIN 


44. 


AVERLLL. 


21. 




BUELL. 


45. 


TORBERT.^ 


^22. 


a 


SHIELDS. 


46. 


THOMAS. 


^23. 


ii 


BURNSLDE. 


47. 


JEFF. C. DATTS, 


U. 




HOOKER 


48 


CANBY. 



s 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



49. GENERAL CURTIS. 



50. 




JNJiibfLiiii.. 


51 




J. D. COX. 


52. 

\j>3. 




GORDON GRANGER. 




PALMER. 


54. 




SEDGWICK. 


55. 
56. 




HcPJlEliSON. 
REYNOLDS. 


57. 




W ADBWUK1M. 


58 


M 


BUJUIN iii XV. 


59. 
60. 




KEARNEY. 
LYON. 


61. 


« 


BIRNEY. 


62. 
63 


u 


RENO 






GRIERSON. 


/ 65. 
66. 




ROUSSEAU. 
WILSON. 


67. 
68. 




KAUTZ. 
STONEMAN. 


69. 


U 


PLEASONTON. 


70. 




GREGG. 



fl\. VICE ADMIRAL FARRAGUT. 
( 72. REAR " PORTER. 



73. REAR ADMIRAL FOOTE. 

74. " « DUPONT. 

75. " " DAHLGREN. 

76. " « GOLD SBORO UGH. 

77. COMMODORE WINSLOW. 

78. LIEUTENANT-COMMANDER CUSHINO, 

79. GENERAL R. E. LEE. 



80. 


" STONEWALL" JACKSON 


81. 


EWELL. 


82. « 


BEAUREGARD. 


83. " 


LONGSTREET. 


84. 


BRECKINRIDGE. 


85. " 


A. P. HILL. 


86. M 


FITZHUGH LEE. 


87. COLONEL 


MOSBY. 


88. GENERAL JOSEPH E. JOHNSTON. 


89. 


HOOD. 


90. 


BRAGG. 


91. " 


KIRBY SMITH. 


92. 


PRICE. 


93. " 


A. S. JOHNSTON. 


94. « 


HARDEE. 


95. " 


FORREST. 


96. M 


JOHN MORGAN. 



BATTLE SCENES, ETC. 



97. BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 
-98. CAPTURE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 
n. 99. BATTLE OF CHAPIN'S FARM. \*t^> 
> 100. SURRENDER OF GENERAL LEE. * 



101. INTERVIEW BETWEEN GENERALS 

SHERMAN AND JOHNSTON. 

102. PRISONERS' CAMP AT ANDERSON 

VILLE, GEORGIA. 



CONTENTS. 



PART L 
NARRATIVES OF PERSONAL DARING AND ADYENTCRE. 

PAGE 

Adventure of a spy IT 

" Set 'em up on t'other alley." 20 

A contraband incident 21 

The Badge of the Fifteenth army corps 22 

Picket repartee at Vicksburg 23 

An old woman's welcome to the Flag 25 

Robbery by mistake 25 

A Blue coat in luck 26 

A Spartan boy 26 

Villiam and his havelock 27 

Bombardment of Fort Sumter 29 

An army scene 36 

Pets in the army 37 

A contraband incident 39 

On the Chickahominy 40 

Happy to make General Gordon's acquaintance 54 

Don't know the ropes 54 

The Western soldier 55 

A philosophical darkey 58 

Rough on the cavalry 59 

l 9 



10 



CONTENTS. 



PAGB 

The retreat to the James river 60 

A characteristic indorsement 77 

A stirring scene 78 

The cavalry charge 79 

A strange battle scene 81 

The perils of a scout 82 

'Mostthar." 90 

The One Hundred and Fifth Rhode Island 90 

General Butler's account of his recruiting operations in Louisiana... 91 

Zagonyi's charge 94 

A practical joke on a teamster 95 

Enlisting negroes 97 

Cash payments 98 

Battle-hymn of the Republic 99 

An adventure of General Howard 100 

The assault 101 

Grant's unselfishness. Ill 

A cavalry charge 112 

Sheridan's ride 125 

True to her principles 127 

A wedding in camp 128 

Roll call 130 

The clothes-line Telegraph 132 

The charge at Port Hudson 134 

Washing day in camp 138 

Army exchanges 139 

A snow-ball battle 140 

The battle-cry of Freedom 145 

An anecdote of Colonel Hugh McNeill 147 

How they got their liquor 149 

The Stars and Stripes over Richmond 149 

How General Hooker talked to a cavalry brigadier 15B 

The surrender of Yicksburg 157 

Incidents of Shiloh 159 

General Rosecrans and Pat's furlo' 160 

A scene in war 161 

To Canaan 164 



CONTENTS. 11 

PAGE 

The march to Nashville 166 

Incident at Antietam 168 

Anecdote of President Lincoln 169 

How a Captain was captured 169 

Anecdote of General Grant 172 

A penitent fellow 173 

General Grant defines his position 173 

General Sherman watching the capture of Fort McAllister 174 

General Logan and the Irishman 177 

Good joke on a chaplain 178 

Sheridan riding to the front 179 

John Brown's song , 181 



PAE'T II. 

THE BLUE COATS IN THE HOSPITAL, WITH SKETCHES AND 
INCIDENTS OF THE CHRISTIAN COMMISSION, 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES, ETC, ETC. 

Ride of the wounded brigade 183 

The wounded after a battle 186 

The Army Church 188 

Anxious for a trade 192 

A chapel underground 193 

Surprised, but ready 195 

A brave confession 197 

Anecdote of President Lincoln 197 

Lock of hair for mother 199 

Carte de Visite 201 

Religious exercises in the army 202 

Death of John 212 

How to spike a gun, 224 



1 2 CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Customer for Grant's biography 224 

Night scene in a hospital 225 

Calling on President Lincoln 228 

Anecdote of General Butler 229 

The life and death of a patriot soldier 230 

A touching incident of the war 231 

A sick relative 232 

A night scene at Fredericksburg 233 

A Mohammedan colonel 238 

The snow at Fredericksburg 239 

Recollections of Grant 240 

Time to leave 243 

An observing negro 243 

Anecdote of President Lincoln 244 

True to the Union 244 

The common soldier 246 

Outflanked for once 248 

Something for everybody „. 248 

Tracts vs. Pound cake 250 

Music in the hospital 251 

Medicinal properties of blankets. ... 252 

Owning up 255 

The captain's wife 256 

Ti ue Samaritanism 257 

" I am proud to die for my country." 258 

Tigers and Treason 259 

Fulfilment of the sergeant's prophecy 260 

Mrs. Belmont's concert for the Sanitary Commission 261 

"I've enlisted, sir." 262 

Right kind of government to be established down South 263 

Delivered at the eleventh hour 265 

A woman under fire 266* 

Northern scoolma'ams in Georgia 267 



CONTENTS. 



13 



PAET III. 
INCIDENTS OF PERSONAL DARING AND ADVENTURE. 



PAOB 

The war correspondent's first day , 270 

A story of the draft 280 

Hurrahs for Jeff Davis in the wrong place 281 

Anecdote of Lieutenant-General Grant 282 

Circumstances alter cases 285 

Sold 286 

Barbara Frietchie 287 

" More brains, Lord !" 289 

Governor Johnson and the rebel chaplains 290 

Prompt administration of the law 292 

Helping a poor soldier 293 

Thrilling incident at Fort Donelson 294 

The escape 296 

" I fights mit Sigel." 312 

One of the scouts of the army of the Cumberland 313 

" Old Sortie," the rebel general 323 

Sol. Meredith 323 

Ballooning in the army 324 

Rattlesnakes vs. Rebels 333 

Lieutenant 's perfumed breath 333 

A daring scout and spy 334 

Scouting in East Tennessee 347 

The Picket Guard 354 

How the prisoners escaped from the Richmond jail 356 

General Pope and the Assistant Secretary of "War 363 

My capture and escape from Mosby 365 

The Battle of Lookout Mountain ,383 

The secret service 387 

Young Hart, the guide 397 

Hurrah for the gunspiker 401 

Colonel De Villiers' escape 402 

Incidents of Morgan's raid,.. 406 



14 CONTENTS. 

I AOS 

Adventure of Captain Strong 417 

" Dabney," the colored scOut 419 

Driving home the cows 421 

A Southern martyr 423 

Adventures of an Iowa boy 424 

Exploits of a foraging party 426 

The brave drummer boy. 430 

Miss Major Oushman among her captors 432 

Eosecrans' orderly sergeant delivered of a baby in camp 435 

Escaping from prison 436 

Before Yicksburg 437 

The Belgian muskets 440 

Honorable commendation instead of ignominions death 441 

Annie Lillyb ridge and Lieutenant W 442 

Bather be a soldier's widow than a coward's wife 444 

Scott and the veteran 444 

Flight, capture, and death of Booth 446 

The ballad of Ishmael Day 451 



PAET IV. 
THE BLUE COATS AFLOAT. 



How a blockade runner was caught, . t 454 

" Swamp angel" incident 453 

A hearty prayer 454 

"Good shooting." 455 

The passage of the Port Hudson batteries 465 

Running the batteries at Yicksburg 475 

A frightened contraband 431 

The Cumberland 482 

The fight with the "Albemarle." 484 

An Hibernian's tussle with a " Mississippi tiger." 492 



CONTENTS. 15 

PAOB 

The destruction of the " Albemarle." 492 

Hard to tell pork from tomatoes 497 

A gallant tar „ , 497 

An easy capture , 498 

The escape of the " Planter," 499 

Thirty tremendous minutes 502* 

A sailor's story .., 504 

A shell on board ship 506 

At Port Royal 507 

"Dem rotten shell." 510 



PART I. 



THE BLUE COATS, ffl THE FIELD, THE CAMP, THE MARCH, 
AND THE BATTLE. 



ADVENTUKE OF A SPY. 

I have lately returned from the south, but my exact 
whereaboouts in that region, for obvious reasons, it would 
not be politic to state. Suspected of being a northerner, it 
was often my advantage to court obscurity. Known as a 
spy, " a short shrift"" and a ready rope would have prevented 
the blotting of this paper. Hanging, disguised, on the out- 
skirts of a camp, mixing with its idlers, laughing at their 
jokes, examining their arms, counting their numbers, endea- 
voring to discover the plans of their leaders, listening to this 
party and pursuing that, joining in the chorus of a rebel 
song, betting on rebel success, cursing abolitionism, despis- 
ing northern fighters, laughing at their tactics, and sneering 
at their weapons ; praising the beauty of southern belles and 
decrying that o^ northern ; calling New York a den of cut- 
throats and New Orleans a paradise of immaculate chivalry, 
is but a small portion of the practice of my profession as a 
spy. This may not seem honorable nor desirable. As to the 
2 17 



18 



ADVENTURE OF A SPY. 



honor, let the country benefitted by the investigations and 
warnings of the spy be judge ; and the danger, often incurred, 
is more serious and personal than that of the battle-field, 
which may, perhaps, detract from its desirability. 

It was a dark night. Not a star on the glimmer. I had 
collected my quotem of intelligence, and was on the move 
for the northern lines. I was approaching the banks of a 
stream whose waters I had to cross, and had then some miles 
to traverse before I could reach the pickets of our gallant 
troops. A feeling of uneasiness began to creep over me ; I 
was on the outskirt of a wood fringing the dark waters at my 
feet, whose presence could scarcely be detected but for their 
sullen murmurs as they rushed through the gloom. The 
wind sighed in gentle accordance. I walked forty or fifty 
yards along the bank. I then crept on all fours along the 
ground, and groped with my hands. I paused — I groped 
again — my breath thickened — perspiration oozed from every 
pore, and I was prostrated with horror. I had missed my 
landmark, and knew not where I was. Below or above, 
beneath the shelter of the bank, lay the skiff I had hidden 
ten days before, when I commenced my operations among 
the followers of Jeff Davis. 

As I stood gasping for breath, with all the unmistakable 
proofs of my calling about me, the sudden cry of a bird, or 
plunging of a fish, would act like magnetism upon my frame, 
not wont to shudder at a shadow. No matter how pressing 
the danger may be, if a man sees an opportunity of escape, 
he breathes with freedom. But let him be surrounded by 
darkness, impenetrable at two yards' distance, within rifle's 
length of concealed foes, for what knowledge he has to the 
contrary ; knowing too, with painful certainty, the detection 
of his presence would reward him with a sudden and violent 



/ 



ADVENTURE Of A SPY. 



19 



\Lath, and 11 he breathes no faster, he is more fitted for a 
hero than I am. 

Tn the agony of that moment — in the sudden and uttei 
helplessness I felt to discover my true bearings — I was about 
to let myself gently into the stream, and breast its current 
for life or death. There was no alternative. The northern 
p:3kets must be reached in safety before the morning broke, 
or I should soon swing between heaven and earth, from some 
green limb in the dark forest in which I stood. 

At that moment the low, sullen bay of a bloodhound 
struck my ear. The sound was reviving — the fearful still- 
ness broken. The uncertain dread flew before the certain 
danger. I was standing to my middle in the shallow bed of 
the river, just beneath the jutting banks. After a pause of a 
few seconds, I began to creep mechanically and stealthily 
down the stream, followed, as I knew, from the rustling of 
the grass and frequent breaking of twigs, by the insatiable 
brute ; although, by certain uneasy growls, I felt assured he 
was at fault. Something struck against my breast. I could 
not prevent a slight cry from escaping me, as, stretching out 
my hand, I grasped the gunwale of a boat moored beneath 
the bank. Between surprise and joy I felt half choked. 

In an instant I had scrambled on board, and began to 
search for the painter in the bow, in order to cast her from 
her fastenings. Suddenly a bright ray of moonlight — the 
first gleam of hope in that black night — fell directly on the 
spot, revealing the silvery stream, my own skiff (hiddon 
there ten days before), lighting the deep shadows of the 
verging wood, and, on the log half buried in the bank, and 
from which I had that instant cast the line that had bound 
me to it, the supple form of the crouching bloodhound, his 
red eyes gleaming in the moonlight, jaws distended, and 



20 



"SET 'EM UP ON T'OTHER ATXEY." 



poising for the spring. With one dart tne light skiff was 
yards out in the stream, and the savage after it. With an 
oar I aimed a blow at his head, which, however, he eluded 
with ease, In the effort thus made, the boat careened over 
toward my antagonist, who made a desperate effort to get his 
fore paws over the side, at the same time seizing the gunwale 
with his teeth. Now or never was my time. I drew my 
revolver, and placed the muzzle between his eyes, but hesi- 
tated to fire, for that one report might bring on me a volley 
from the shore. Meantime the strength of the dog careened 
the frail craft so much that the water rushed over the side, 
threatening to swamp her. I changed my tactics, threw my 
revolver into the bottom of the skiff, and grasping my 
"Bowie," keen as a Malay creese, and glittering as I released 
it from the sheath, like a moonbeam on the stream. In an 
instant I had severed the sinewy throat of the hound, cutting 
through brawn and muscle to the nape of the neck. The 
tenacious wretch gave a wild, convulsive leap half out of 
the water,- then sank and was gone. Five minutes' pulling 
landed me on the other side of the river r and in an hour after 
I was among friends within the northern lines. 



"SET 'EM UP OlST T'OTHER ALLEY." 

At Antietam our boys (one hundred and seventh New 
York volunteers), supported Cothern's battery. The rebels 
advanced in a solid mass. One of our boys, a sporting charac- 
ter from Elmira, climbed a high rock, where he could view 
the whole scene. He occupied his place unmindful of the 
bullets whizzing like bees around him. The rebels came on 



A CONTRABAND INCIDENT. 



21 



antil we could see their faces, and then Cothern poured the 
canister into them. The advancing column was literaJly 
torn to pieces by the fire. Our friend on the rock grew 
frantic in his demonstrations of delight, and as one of the 
oattery sections sent a shrapnell which mowed down a long 
line of Johnnies, he swung his cap, and shouting so that th 
flying rebels could have heard him, sung out : " Bul-l-l-l-ee i 
Set 1 em up on t'other alley!" 



A CONTKABAND INCIDENT. 

One of the Anderson Zouaves relates the following inci- 
dent as having come under his observation : — 

We were scouting one day in Alabama, when in a remote 
field we found a negro man and woman ploughing with a 
good horse. We paused, and the ploughers gazed at us with 
the greatest curiosity. I never saw a more thoroughly aston- 
ished individual. It was evidently his first sight at Yankee 
soldiers. 

" Well, boy, won't you come along with us ?" I said. 
" De Lawd bless's — mars's, is you really de Fed'rals ?" 
" That's it, old fellow." 
" De rale Linkum sojers ?" 
" Exactly." 

" De kind as wants counterbans ?" 
" Identically." 

Here he proceeded with great deliberation to unhitch hia 
horse from the plough. Gathering up divers small objects, 
that nothing might be lost, he slung himself on his steed, 
and cried over his shoulder, to his amazed work- fellow : — 



22 THE BADGE OF TEE FIFTEENTH ARMY CORPS 



"Good-by, M'ria. I'se off!" 

And off he rode, stared at by " M'ria," whose eyes gazed 
after him in utter and complete bewilderment — "like the 
grandmother of all the owls when she first saw sunshine." 



THE BADGE OF THE FIFTEENTH ARMY CORPS. 

The troops from the Army of the Potomac, sent to -join the 
army of the Cumberland, carried with them various orna- 
mental habits and customs that were new to the western sol- 
diers. Among them was the corps badge, which designated 
the corps to which officers and men were attached. For 
instance, the badge of the eleventh corps is a crescent, that 
of the twelfth a star. The badge is made of any material — 
gold, silver, or red flannel — and is worn conspicuously on 
some part of the clothing. The western corps had no such 
badge. How an Irishman explained the matter is thus told : 
A soldier came by the headquarters of General Butter field — 
a tired, weather-beaten straggler. He was one of those who 
made Sherman's march from Memphis to Chattanooga, thence 
to Knoxville, and was now returning in the terrible cold 
of that returning march, thinly clad, one foot covered with a 
badly worn army shoe, the other with a piece of raw hide 
bound with strings about a sockless foot — both feet cut and 
bleeding. "Arms at will," he trudged past the headquarters 1 
guard, intent only upon overtaking his regiment. 

" Halt," said a sentinel with a bright piece, clean uniform, 
and white gloves. " What do you belong to ?" 

" Eighth Misshoory, sure." 

" What division?" 



PICKET REPARTEE AT VICES BURG. 



M Morgan L. Smith's, av coorse." 
" What brigade ?" 

" Giles Smith's second brigade of the second division." 
" But what army corps ?" 

" The fifteenth, you fool. I am one of the heroes of Yicks- 
burg. Any thing more, Mr. Sentinel ?" 
" Where is your badge ?" 
" My badge, is it ? What is that ?" 

" Do you see this star on my cap ? That is the badge of 
the twelfth corps. That crescent on my partner's cap is the 
badge of the eleventh corps." 

" I see now. That's how yez Potomic fellers gits home of 
dark nights. Ye takes the moon and the shtars with ye." 

" But what is the badge of your corps ?" 

Making a round about, and slapping his cartridge-box, our 
soldier replied, "D'ye see that? A cartridge-box, with a 
U. S. on a brash plate, and forty rounds in the cartridge-box, 
and sixty rounds in our pockets. That's the badge of the 
fifteenth, that came from Yicksburg to help ye fight Chat- 
tanoogy." 



PICKET REPARTEE AT YICKSBURG. 

The richness of rebel repartee and fecundity of Federal 
fun during the long and familiar vis a vis at Yicksburg is 
pretty well illustrated in the following verbatim colloquy: — 

Rebel Picket. — What are you men doing over there ? 

Union Picket. — Guarding about twenty to thirty thousand 
rebels in and about Yicksburg. Guarding your army as 
prisoners, and making you board yourselves. 

Eeb. — Why, you fools, Pemberton has a strong line 

of guards for the same purpose. 



24 



PICKET REPARTEE AT VICKSBURG. 



Reb. — How's Hooker ? He had to recross the river, did 

he not ? 

Fed. — Yes, but he was not as big a fool as your general 
was. He did not burn the bridges before his men all got 

across ! 

Reb. — What do you think of the gunboat Cincinnati ? 

Fed. — Gunboat ? Why, don't you know the difference be- 
tween a gunboat and a hay-rack ? 

Reb. — (just in the act of throwing a hand-grenade) — 
Antn'y, over! 

Fed. — (in the act of hurling it back) — Look out for the 
skillets and camp-kettles ! 

Fed. — (addressing a rebel lieutenant of artillery) — Where's 
your gun ? 

Reb.-— Turned it over to Grant at the Big Black, and 1 
guess it's now in active service, by the way it plays into 
these works. 

Reb. — Why don't you come and take Vicksburg ? 

Fed. — Oh, we're in no particular hurry. General Grant is 
not yet ready to transfer you north. 

Reb. — (boastingly) — We've got a lot of your old flags 

over here. 

Fed. — Have you, though ? You'd better make shirts of 
'em, for they'd look better'n that butternut. 

Reb. — (in a husky voice)— I want to trade $?ome corn-meal 
for some coffee. 

Fed. — What did you say ? 

Reb. — (louder) — Won't you trade some coffee for some 
corn-meal ? 

Fed. — You'd better get some coffee, or something else, for 
you've eat corn-meal till you can't talk plain. 
p.ph-^ When are vou going to make a change? 



ROBBERY BY MISTAKJS. 25 

Fed. — Ob, in about two years. We are in no hurry — are 
living fine over bere — bave a pleasant place, and ammuni- 
tion to last us tbe rest of tbe time. 



AN OLD WOMAN'S WELCOME TO THE ELAGr. 

A correspondent at Monticello, Kentucky, speaking of 
tbe manner in which tbe people received tbe national troops 
in tbe advance on tbat place, says, " One old lady, a mile 
beyond tbis place, said, as sbe saw tbe columns rusbing on 
after tbe rebels, 'When I seed tbat old flag comin', I jist 
tbrowed my old bonnet on tbe ground and stomped it.' " 



ROBBERY BY MISTAKE. 

Two ladies, wbile General McClellan was at dinner at tbe 
Massasoit House, Springfield, Massacbusetts, on bis passage 
tbrougb tbat city, ventured to rob a military cap, wbicb tbey 
supposed to be tbe general's, of botb its buttons, tearing tbem 
out in a very unfeminine manner, to be preserved as memen- 
toes of tbat military cbieftain. Tbe mortification of tbeir 
feelings and tbe redness of tbeir faces can only be imagined 
wben one of tbe aids, carelessly, as usual, put on tbe muti- 
lated cap, and tbe general put on bis own, wbicb was intact 
Those 'buttons were not preserved, but tbe story has been — 
being told much oftener than was agreeable to tbe eager but 
disappointed curiosity -hunters. 



26 



A SPARTAN BOY. 



A BLUE COAT IN LUCK. 

When the Federal troops made one of their raids into the 
State of Mississippi, in pursuit of Chalmers' forces, one of 
the privates of the Seventh Iowa Infantry, while excavating 
the ruins of an old house, for the purpose of fixing a bed for 
the night, suddenly struck upon a bottle, which, on being 
brought to light and examined, was found to exhibit the 
refreshing spectacle of seventy dollars in silver coin. 
Amazed at his un-dreamed-of good luck, he determined to 
follow the ik lead," which soon changed from silver into gold 
— for, upon further digging, he turned up the glorious sum 
of seven hundred and eighty dollars in massive gold. A 
large and precious haul indeed for a " hard-up " soldier in an 
enemy's land. It had probably been deposited there for safe 
keeping by some of the " natives," who ludicrously expected 
it could thus escape a " Yankee's " scent. 



A SPARTAN BOY. 

At the battle of Winchester a young soldier was detailed 
for duty in guarding army property. He stood to his post 
until about the time his regiment made its famous charge, 
when he " made a break " for that regiment, joined it, and 
helped in the two desperate charges that decided the day.^ 
The young soldier was brought before a court-martial, and 
he came up with tears streaming down his face, and between 
sobs said : " You may shoot me if you must, but 'dad' told 
me, on leaving home, that when there was any fighting 
going on I must be in the thickest, and I was. Now, if you 



YILLIAM AND HIS HAVELOCK. 



27 



^ant your ' stuff' guarded when there is a fight, somebody 
besides me must do it." The boy " Alex," of Bedford, was 
let off on that plea, and ever after proved one of the best 
soldiers in his regiment. 



VILLIAM AND HIS HAVELOCK. 

The members of the Mackerel Brigade, says the inimitable 
Orpheus C. Kerr, now stationed on Arlington Heights, to 
watch the movements of the Potomac, which is expected to 
rise shortly, desire me to thank the ladies of America for 
supplies of havelocks and other delicacies of the season just 
received. The havelocks, my boy, are rather roomy, and we 
took them for shirts at first ; and the shirts are so narrow- 
minded that we took them for havelocks. If the women of 
America could manage to get a little less linen into the 
collars of the latter, and a little more into the other depart- 
ment of the graceful " garmint," there would be fewer colds 
in this division of the Grand Army. The havelocks, as I 
have said before, are roomy — very roomy, my boy. Yilliam 
Brown, of company Gr, put one on last night when he went 
on sentry duty, and looked like a broomstick in a pillow- 
case, for all the world. When the officer came round, and 
caught sight of Yilliam in his havelock, he was struck dumb 
with admiration for a moment. Then he ejaculated : 

" What a splendid moonbeam !" 

Yilliam made a movement, and the sergeant came up. 

"What's that white object?" says the officer to the 
sergeant. " Thunder !" roared the officer ; " tell him to go 
to his tent, and take off that nightgown." 



28 



VILLIAM AND HIS HAYELOCK. 



"You're mistaken," says the sergeant; "the sentry is 
Villiam Brown, in his havelock, which was made by the 
women of America." 

The officer was so justly exasperated at his mistake, that 
he went immediately to his head-quarters and took the oath 
three times running, with a little sugar. 

The oath is very popular, my boy, and comes in bottles. 
1 take it medicinally myself. 

The shirts made by the ladies of America are noble articles, 
as far down as the collar, but would not do to use as an only 
garment. Captain Mortimer de Montague, of the skirmish 
squad, put one on when he went to the President's reception, 
and the collar stood up so high that he couldn't put his cap 
on, while the other department didn't reach quite to his 
waist. His appearance at the White House was picturesque 
and interesting, and as he entered the drawing-room, General 
Scott remarked, very feelingly : 

"Ah ! here comes one of the wounded heroes." 

" He's not wounded, general," remarked an officer stand- 
ing by. 

"Then why is his head bandaged up so?" asked the 
venerable veteran. 

" 0," says the officer, " that's only one of the shirts made 
by the patriotic women of America." 

In about five minutes after this conversation I saw the 
venerable veteran and the wounded hero at the office taking 
the oath together. 



BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER. 



29 



BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER. 

Ox receipt of the notice from "Washington of the purpose 
of the Government to provision Sumter — peaceably if it 
could, forcibly if it must — General Beauregard telegraphed 
the purport to- Montgomery, and received in reply from 
Secretary Walker, on the 10th of April, an order to demand 
at once the evacuation of the fort, and, in case of refusal, U. 
proceed to reduce it. The demand was not made, however, 
till two o'clock, p. M., of the 11th, when time was allowed 
Major Anderson till six o'clock to answer. Major Anderson 
replied that " his sense of honor and his obligations to his 
Government prevented his compliance." 

At one o'clock on the morning of the 12th, Major Ander- 
son received another communication from Beauregard, 
stating that, as he understood the garrison was short of 
provisions and would soon have to evacuate, he wished him 
to set a day when he would do so. Major Anderson, on 
consultation with his officers, replied, "Provided Fort 
Sumter or the flag it bore was not fired on, he would be 
obliged to evacuate by Monday, the loth." But it did not 
suit the purpose of the Rebels to wait. They had made 
great preparations to bombard the fort ; " a blow must be 
struck to fire the Southern heart," as Pryor had said ; and 
they were too eager for the fray, not to prefer force to 
evacuation. After a few moments' consideration, Beaure- 
gard's deputies informed Major Anderson that the batteries 
would open their fires in one hour. Thereupon, they 
immediately left the fort, it being then 3 : 30 A. M., and in 
one hour it commenced. 

After the deputation had. left, the sentinels were im- 
mediately removed from the parapets of the fort, the posterns 



30 



BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER. 



closed, the flag drawn up, and the troops ordered not to leave 
the bomb-proofs, on any account, till summoned by the 
drum. 

At 4 : 30 A. m., one bomb-shell was thrown, bursting 
directly over the fort. After a short pause, the firing 
became general on the part of the Rebel batteries, doing the 
greatest credit to the artillerists. The command did not 
return a single shot until the men had their breakfasts. As 
the number of men was small, and the garrison so nearly 
exhausted by the several months' siege they had endured, it 
was necessary to husband their strength ; the command was 
therefore divided into three relief, or equal parties, who were 
to work the different batteries by turns, each four hours. 

The first relief opened upon the iron batteries at Cum- 
mings' Point, at a distance of sixteen hundred yards ; the 
iron floating battery, distant eighteen hundred or two thous- 
and yards, at the end of Sullivan's Island ; the enfilading 
battery on Sullivan's Island, and Tort Moultrie. This was 
at seven o'clock A. M., Captain Doubleday firing the first 
gun ; all the points named being opened upon simultaneously. 
For the first four hours, the firing was kept up with great 
rapidity : the enthusiasm of the men, indeed, was so great, 
that the second and third reliefs could not be kept from the 
guns. 

Shells burst with the greatest rapidity, in every portion of 
the work, hurling the loose brick and stone in all directions, 
breaking the windows and setting fire to whatever wood ; 
work they burst against. The solid shot firing of the 
enemy's batteries — particularly Fort Moultrie — was directed 
at the barbette guns of Sumter, disabling four and tearing 
away a large portion of the parapet. 

Tbe explosion of shells, and the quantity of deadly mis- 



BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER. 



31 



Biles that were hurled in every direction, constantly, rendered 
it almost certain death to go out of the lower tier of case- 
ments ; and also made the working of the barbette, or upper, 
uncovered guns, which contained all the heaviest metals, and 
by which alone shells could be thrown, quite impossible. 
During the first day there was hardly an instant of time that 
there was a cessation of the whizzing of balls, which were 
sometimes coming half a dozen at once. Before dinner, 
several vessels of the fleet, beyond the bar, were seen through 
the port-holes ; they dipped their flags, but it was impractica- 
ble to pass the bar ; Sumter's flag was dipped in return, 
while the shells were bursting in every direction. 

About noon the cartridges were exhausted, and a party 
was sent to the magazine to make more out of blankets and 
shirts, the sleeves of the latter readily answering the purpose. 
The great misfortune was, nothing for weighing powder. 

When it became so dark as to render it impossible to see 
the effect of their shot, the port-holes were closed for the 
night ; while the Rebels continued to fire all night. 

During Friday, seventeen mortars, firing ten-inch shell, 
and thirty-three heavy guns, mostly columbiads, were en- 
gaged in the assault. The iron battery was of immense 
strength, and most of our shot struck and glanced off. We 
succeeded in dismounting two of the guns on Cummings' 
Point battery ; but the full effect of our firing could not be 
ascertained. 

During the day the officers' barracks were three times set 
on fire by the shells, and three times put out, under the most 
iestructive firing. 

The firing of the rifled guns from the iron battery on 
Cummings' Point, became very accurate on Friday afternoon 
cutting out large quantities of masonry about the embrasur 



32 



BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER. 



at every shot, throwing concrete among the canmnier^ 
slightly wounding some, and stunning others. One piece 
struck Sergeant Kearnan on the head and knocked him 
down. On reviving, and being asked if he was badly hurt, 
he replied: "No; I was only knocked down temporarily;" 
and went to work again. 

Meals were served at the guns of the cannoniers, while the 
guns were being pointed and fired. 

For the fourth time the barracks were set on fire, early on 
Saturday morning, and attempts were made to put out the 
fire; but, on account of the rapidity with which hot shot 
were being thrown into the fort, it was found impossible to 
sheck the conflagration. 

As many of the garrison as could be spared were set to 
work to remove the powder from the magazines. This was 
desperate work, as they had to roll the barrels of powder 
through the fire. Ninety barrels were thus got out, when 
the heat became so great as to make it impossible to get out 
any more. 

The doors were then closed and locked, and the fire spread 
and became general. The wind so directed the smoke as to 
fill the fort so full that the men could not see each other, and 
were nearly suffocated with hot air. Soon they were obliged 
to cover their faces with wet cloths, in order to get along at 
all, so dense was the smoke and so scorching the heat. 

After the barracks were well on fire, the Eebel batteries 
increased the rapidity of their cannonading upon Fort Sumter 
About this time, the shells and ammunition in the upper* 
service magazines exploded, scattering the towers and upper 
portions of the building in every direction. 

The crash of the beams, the roar of the flames, the rapid 
explosion of the shells, and the shower of fragments of the 



BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER. 



33 



fort, with the blackness of the smoke, made the scene inde • 
scribably terrific and grand. 

This continued for several hours. Meanwhile, the maiD 
gates were burned down, the chassis of the barbette guns 
were burned away on the gorge, and the upper portions of 
the towers had been demolished by shells. 

The fire spread to the men's quarters, on the right hand 
and on the left, and endangered the powder which had been 
taken out of the magazines. The men went through the fire 
and covered the barrels with wet cloths ; but the danger of 
the fort's blowing up became so imminent, that they were 
obliged to throw the barrels out through the embrasures. 
All but four barrels were thus disposed of, and those four 
remaining were wrapped in wet blankets. But three cart 
ridges were left, and those were in the guns. While this 
was being done, all the guns of Moultrie and the batteries 
were worked with increased vigor. 

The flag-staff of Fort Sumter was now shot down, some 
fifty feet from the truck, being the ninth time it had been 
struck by shot. The men cried out " The flag is down ! it 
has been shot away!" and in an instant Lieutenant Hall 
rushed forward and brought the flag away. It was then 
nailed to the staff and planted upon the ramparts, while bat- 
teries in every direction were playing upon them. 

Ex-Senator Wigfall now appeared at an embrasure, with 
a white handkerchief upon the end of a sword, and begged 
admittance. He asked to see Major Anderson, and was told 
that he was at the main gate ; but he crawled in through the 
embrasure, paying no attention to what had been told him. 

He was met by Captain Foster, Lieutenant Mead and 

Lieutentant Davis, to whom he said : " I wish to see Majoi 

Anderson. I am General Wigfall, and come from General 
3 



34 



BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER. 



Beauregard;" adding, in an excited manner, "Let us stop 
this firing. You are on fire and jour flag is down. Let us 
quit." 

Lieutenant Davis replied; "No, sir, our flag is not down. 
Step out here and you will see it waving over the ramparts.' ' 

" Let us quit this," said Wigfall. " Here's a white flag ; 
will anybody wave it out of the embrasure ?" 

One of the officers replied : " That is for you to do, if con 
choose." 

Wigfall responded : " If there is no one else to do it, I 
will ;" and jumping into the embrasure, waved it toward 
Moultrie. 

The firing still continued from Moultrie and the batteries 
of Sullivan's Island. In answer to WigfalPs request that 
one of onr men might hold the flag, Corporal Binghurst 
jumped into the embrasure; but, the shot continuing to 
strike all around him, after waving the flag a few moments, 
he jumped down again, saying : " Damn it, they don't respect 
this flag ; they are firing at it." 

"Wigfall replied : " They fired at me two or three times, 
and I should think that you might stand it once." 

Wigfall then said : "If you will show a white flag from 
your ramparts, they will cease firing." 

Lieutenant Davis replied : "If you request that a flag 
shall be shown there, while you hold a conference with 
Major Anderson, and for that purpose only, it may be done." 

At this point, the Major came up. Wigfall said : "I am 
General Wigfall, and come from General Beauregard, who 
wishes to stop this." 

Major Anderson replied : " Well, sir ?" 

"Major Anderson," said Wigfall, "you have defended 
your flag nobly, sir. You have done all that it was possible 



BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER. 



35 



foi men to do ; and General Beauregard wishes to stop the 
fight. On what terms, Major Anderson, will yon evacuate 
this fort ?" 

Major Anderson replied : " General Beauregard knows my 
only terms." 

" Do I understand that you will evacuate upon the terms 
proposed the other day?" 

"Yes, sir, and on those conditions only;" was the reply of 
the major. 

" Then, sir," said Wigfall, " I understand, major, that the 
fort is to be ours ?" 

" On those conditions only, I repeat." 

« Very well," said Wigfall, and retired. 

Shortly after his departure, the staff of General Beaure 
gard approached the fort with a white flag, saying that they 
came from General Beauregard, who had observed that the 
flag had been down and raised again soon afterward, and had 
sent over desiring to know if he could render any assistance, 
as he had observed that the fort was on fire. 

Major Anderson, in replying, requested them to thank 
General Beauregard, on his behalf, for his offer, but it was 
too la^e, as he had just agreed with General Beauregard for 
an evacuation. The gentlemen were surprised, and asked 
with whom? Major Anderson, observing that something 
was wrong, remarked that General Wigfall, who had just 
left, had represented himself as the aid of General Beaure- 
gard, and that he had come to make the proposition. They 
replied that Wigfall had not been with General Beauregard 
for two days. Major Anderson then stated that General 
Wigfall's offer, and its acceptance, had placed him in a pecu- 
liar position. They then requested him to put in writing 
what Wigfall had said to him, and they would lay it before 
Beauregard. 



36 



AN ARMY SCENE. 



Before this reached Beuregard, he sent his adjutant-gene- 
ral to say that the terms had been accepted, and that he 
would send the Isabel, or any other vessel at his command, 
to convey Major Anderson and the troops to any port in the 
United States that he might elect. 

The evacuation took place on Sunday afternoon, April 
14th, after the burial, with military honors, of private 
Hough, who had been killed by the bursting of a gun. 

It was a painful sight to all, to see the stars and stripes 
finally hauled down ; but we felt that we had done our duty 
and must submit. The fort w r as not surrendered, but evacua- 
ted, almost on our own terms, with colors flying and drums 
beating, bringing away company and private property, and 
saluting our flag with fifty guns. 

Major Anderson and his brave band shipped on board the 
Baltic, Captain Fletcher, for New York, where they arrived 
on the Thursday following. Thus ended the second act in 
the Great Eebellion drama. 

star-spangled banner, the flag of our pride ! 
Though tempted by traitors, and basely defied, 
Fling out to the glad winds your red, white and blue, 
For the heart of the North-land is beating for you ! 



AN AEMY SCENE. 

Stepping to my door one evening, to take a view of the 
varied life of Market Street, I saw a refreshing spectacle. 
Coming down the centre of that broad thoroughfare, with 
musket at right shoulder shift, head bent slightly forward, 
and the step and air of a veteran, was a negro boy of about 



PETS IN THE AEMT. 



37 



twenty years, wearing the army bine. Following behind, 
crowding close np aronnd, and in a line extending far behind 
him, were abont two hundred officers and soldiers of the 
so-called Confederate States army. On passed the colored 
sergeant — such was his rank — and onward crowded and 
followed the late southern warriors. Not another guard 
about them, not another menacing bayonet in sight. The 
gleam of the negro's bayonet told them of rations and 
quarters ahead, and of danger behind. I saw him pass on 
with his charge, never looking behind him, yet losing none, 
until he handed them over to the authorities at the military 
prison, from which they were next day paroled. — Letter from 
a Soldier, 



PETS IN THE AEMY. 

The following shows that nature is the same in the army 
as out of it : — 

" They have the strangest pets in the army, that nobody 
would dream of 1 taking to' at home, and yet they are little 
touches of the gentler nature that give you some such cordial 
feelings, when you see them, as I am told residents of Bour- 
bon County, Kentucky, habitually experience at so much a 
gallon ! One of the boys has carried a red squirrel, through 
'thick and thin,' over a thousand miles. 'Bun' eats hard 
tack like a veteran, and has the freedom of the tent. 
Another's affections overflow upon a slow- winking, unspecu- 
lative little owl, captured in Arkansas, and bearing a name 
with a classical smack to it — Minerva. A third gives his 
heart to a young Cumberland Mountain bear. Bu* chief 



38 



PETS IN THE ARMY. 



pets among camp pets are dogs. Biding on the saddle-bow, 
tacked into a baggage- wagon, mounted on a knapsack, growl- 
ing under a gun, are dogs, brought to a premature end as to 
ears and tails, and yellow at that ; pug-nosed, square-headed 
brutes, sleek terriers, delicate morsels of spaniels, 'Tray, 
Blanche, Sweetheart, little dogs and all.' A dog, like a 
horse, comes to love the rattle and crash of musket and cannon. 
There was one in an Illinois regiment, and I rather think re- 
garded as belonging to it, though his name may not be on the 
muster-roll, that chases half-spent shot as a kitten frolics 
with a ball of worsted. He has been under fire, and twice 
wounded, and left the tip of his tail at the battle of Stone 
River. Woe to the man that shall wantonly kill him. But 
I was especially interested in the fortunes of a little white 
spaniel that messed with a battery, and delighted in the 
name of ' Dot.' No matter what was up, that fellow's silken 
coat must be washed every day ; and there was need of it, 
for when the battery was on the march they just plunged 
him into the sponge-bucket— not the tidiest chamber imagi- 
nable — that swings like its more peaceful cousin, the tar- 
bucket, under the rear axle of the gun-carriage — plumped 
into that, clapped on the cover, and Dot was good for an 
inside passage. One day the battery crossed a stream, and 
the water came well up to the guns. Nobody thought of 
Dot, and when all across, a gunner looked into the bucket , 
it was full of water, and Dot was as dead as a dirty door 
mat.'' 



A CONTRABAND INCIDENT. 



39 



A CONTRABAND INCIDENT. 

A correspondent, writing from Munfordville, Kentucky, 
gives the following : — 

. " While on the other side of the river, my attention was 
attracted to a quiet group coming up the hill. First were 
two intelligent-looking contrabands, next a little ' go-cart,' 
drawn by a mule, in which was a female slave and about a 
dozen little negroes, carefully wrapped in sundry and divers 
coats. An Uncle Tom sort of a chap, with a Miss Dinah, 
brought up the rear. As they came by I addressed Tom : 

" ' Well, uncle, where did your party come from ?' 

u ' We's from de town, dar, sah.' 

" ' And where are you going ?' 

" ' Gwine home, sah.' 

" ' Then you do not live in the village ?' 

" ' No ; we lib right ober yonder, 'bout a mile ; de secesh 
druv us from home.' 

" ' Ah ! well, now stop a minute, and tell me all about it.' 

" 'Dat I do, sure, massa. Jim [to the leader of the mule- 
cart], you go on wid de wagon, an' I kotch you fore you gits 
home. Now, I tells you, massa, all about 'urn. My massa am 
Union, an' so is all de niggers. Yesterday, massa wor away 
in de town, an' de firs' ting we know, 'long come two or free 
hundred ob clem seceshers, on horses, an' lookin' like cut- 
froats. Golly, but de gals wor scared. Jus' right back ob 
us wor de Union soldiers — God bless 'um [reverentially], for 
dey keep de secesh from killin' nigger. De gals know dat, i 
an' when dey see de secesh comin' dey pitch de little nigger 
in de go-cart, an' den we all broke for de Union soldiers.' 

" * So you are not afraid of the Union soldiers V 

" ' God bless you, massa, nebber. Nigger gets ahind dem 



40 



ON THE CHICKAHOMINT. 



Union soldiers, seeesh nebber gets 'urn. Secesh steal nigger — 
Union man nebber steal 'urn. Dat's a fac', massa.' 

" And, with a smile on his face, the clever old darky bade 
me good morning, and trotted on after the go-cart." 



ON THE CHICKAHOMINY. 

The Confederates had been waiting two months for 
McClellan's advance. Emboldened by his delay they had 
gathered the whole of their available strength from remote 
Tennessee, from the Mississippi, and from the coast, until, 
confident and powerful, they crossed Meadow Bridge on the 
26th of June, 1862, and drove in our right wing at Mechan- 
icsville. The Eeserves of General McCall were stationed 
here ; they made a wavering resistance, — wherein four com 
panies of Bucktails were captured bodily, — and fell back at 
nightfall upon Porter's corps, at Gaines's Mill. Fitz John 
Porter commanded the brigades of Generals Sykes and Mor- 
rell, — the former made up solely of regulars. He appeared 
to have been ignorant of the strength of the attacking party, 
and he telegraphed to McClellan, early on Thursday evening, 
that he required no reinforcements, and that he could hold 
his ground. The next morning he was attacked in front and 
flank ; Stewart's cavalry fell on his right, and turned it at 
Old Church. He formed at noon in a new line of battle, from . 
Gaines's House, along the Mill Eoad to New Coal Harbor; 
but stubbornly persisted in the belief that he could not be 
beaten. By three o'clock he had been driven back two 
miles, and all his energies were unavailing to recover a foot 
of ground. He hurled lancers and cavalry upon the masses 



ON THE CHICKAHOMINY. 



41 



of Jackson and the Hills, but the butternut infantry formed 
impenetrable squares, hemmed in with rods of steel, and as 
the horsemen galloped around them, searching for pervious 
points, they were swept from their saddles with volleys of 
musketry. He directed the terrible fire of his artillery upon 
them, but, though the gray footmen fell in heaps, they 
steadily advanced, closing up the gaps, and their lines were 
like long stretches of blaze and ball. Their fire never 
slackened nor abated. They loaded and moved forward 
column on column, like so many immortals that could no1 
be vanquished. The scene from the balloon, as Lowe in 
formed me, was awful beyond all comparison, — of puffing 
shells, and shrieking shrapnel, with volleys that shattered the 
hills, and filled the air with deathly whispers. Infantry, 
artillery, and horse, turned the Federal right, from time to 
time, and to preserve their order of battle the whole line fell 
back toward Grapevine Bridge. At five o'clock, Slocum's 
division of volunteers crossed the creek from the south side, 
and made a desperate dash upon the solid columns of the 
Confederates. At the same time, Toombs's Georgia brigade 
charged Smith's redoubt from the south side, and there was 
a probability of the whole of both armies engaging before 
dark. 

My fever of body had so much relinquished to my fever 
of mind, that at three o'clock I called for my horse, and 
determined to cross the bridge, that I might witness the 
battle. 

It was with difficulty that I could make my way along 
the narrow corduroy, for hundreds of wounded were limp- 
ing from the field to the safe side, and ammunition wagons 
were passing the other way, driven by reckless drivers who 
pjiould have been blown up momentarily. Before I had 



42 



ON THE CHICKAHOMINY. 



reached the north side of the creek, an immense throng of 
panic stricken people came surging down the slippery bridge. 
A few carried muskets, but I saw several wantonly throw 
their pieces into the flood, and as the mass were unarmed, 
I inferred that they had made similar dispositions. Fear, 
anguish, cowardice, despair, disgust, were the predominant 
expressions of the upturned faces. The gaunt trees, towering 
from the current, cast a solemn shadow upon the moving 
throng, and as the evening dimness was falling around them, 
it almost seemed that they were engulfed in some cataract 
I reined my horse close to the side of a team, that I might 
not be borne backward by the crowd ; but some of the law- 
less fugitives seized him by the bridle, and others attempted 
to pull me from the saddle. 

u Gi' up that hoss!" said one, "what business you got wi' 
a hoss ?" 

" That's my critter, and I am in for a ride ; so you get 
off!" said another. 

I spurred my pony vigorously with the left foot, and with 
the right struck the man at the bridle under the chin. The 
thick column parted left and right, and though a howl of 
hate pursued me, I kept straight to the bank, cleared the 
swamp, and took the military route parallel with the creek, 
toward the nearest eminence. At every step of the way I 
met wounded persons. A horseman rode past me, leaning 
over his pommel, with blood streaming from his mouth and 
hanging in gouts from his saturated beard. The day had 
been intensely hot and black boys were besetting the wounded 
with buckets of cool lemonade. It was a common occurrence 
for the couples that carried the wounded on stretchers to stop 
on the way, purchase a glass of the beverage, and drink it. 
Sometimes the blankets on the stretchers were closely folded, 



ON THE CHICKAHOMINY. 



43 



and then I knew that the man within was dead. A little 
fellow, who nsed his sword for a cane, stopped me on the 
road, and said — 

"See yer ! This is the ball that 'jes fell out o' my boot." 

He handed me a lump of lead as big as my thumb, and 
pointed to a rent in his pantaloons, whence the drops rolled 
down his boots. 

"I wouldn't part with that for suthin' handsome," he said; 
" it'll be nice to hev to hum." 

As I cantered away he shouted after me — • 

" Be sure you spell my name right ! It's Smith, with an 

E'— S-M-I-T-H-E." 

Iii one place I met five drunken men escorting a wounded 
sergeant ; the latter had been shot in the jaw, and when he 
attempted to speak, the blood choked his articulation. 

"You let go him, pardner," said one of the staggering 
brutes, " he's not your sergeant. Go way I" 

" Now, sergeant," said the other, idiotically, " 111 see you 
all right, sergeant. Come, Bill, fetch him over to the corn- 
crib and we'll give him a drink." 

Here the first speaker struck the second, and the sergeant, 
in wrath, knocked them both down. All this time the 
enemy's cannon were booming close at hand. 

I came to an officer of rank, whose shoulder-emblem 1 
could not distinguish, riding upon a limping field-horse. 
Four men held him to his seat, and a fifth led the animal. 
The officer was evidently wounded, though he did not seem 
to be bleeding, and the dust of battle had settled upon his 
blanched, stiffening face, like grave-mould upon a corpse. 
He was swaying in the saddle, and his hair — for he was bare- 
headed — shook across his white eyeballs. He reminded me 
of the famous Cid, whose body was ser t forth to scare the 
Saracens. 



44 



ON THE CHICKAHOMINY. 



A mile or more from Grapevine Bridge, on a hill-top, lay 
a frame farm-house, with cherry trees encircling it, and along 
the declivity of the hill were some cabins, corn-sneds, and 
corn-bins. The house was now a surgeon's headquarters, 
and the wounded lay in the yard and lane, under the shade 
waiting their turns to be hacked and maimed. I caught 
glimpse through the door, of the butchers and their victims ; 
some curious people were peeping through the windows at 
the operation. As the processions of freshly wounded went 
by, the poor fellows, lying on their backs, looked mutely at 
me, and their great eyes smote my heart. 

Something has been written in the course of the war upon 
straggling from the ranks, during battle. But I have seen 
nothing that conveys an adequate idea of the number of 
cowards and idlers that so stroll off. In« this instance, I met 
squads, companies, almost regiments of them. Some came 
boldly along the road ; others skulked in woods, and made 
long detours to escape detection; a few were composedly- 
playing cards, or heating their coffee, or discussing the order 
and consequences of the right. The rolling drums, the 
constant clatter of file and volley-firing — nothing could 
remind them of the requirements of the time and their own 
infamy. Their appreciation of duty and honor seemed to 
have been forgotten ; neither hate, ambition, nor patriotism 
could force them back ; but when the columns of mounted 
provosts charged upon them, they sullenly resumed their 
muskets and returned to the field. At the foot of the hill to. 
which I have referred the ammunition wagons lay in long 
lines, with the horses' heads turned from the fight. A little 
beyond stood the ambulances ; and between both sets of 
vehicles, fatigue-parties were going and returning to and 
^rom the field. At the top of the next hill sat many of the 



ON THE CHICKAHOMINY 



45 



Federal batteries, and I was admonished by the shriek of 
shells that passed over my head and burst far behind me, 
that I was again to look upon carnage and share the perils 
of the soldier. 

The question at once occurred to me : Can I stand fire ? 
Having for some months penned daily paragraphs relative to 
death, courage, and victory, I was surprised to find that 
those words were now unusually significant. " Death" was 
a syllable to me before; it was a whole dictionary now. 
" Courage" was natural to every man a week ago ; it was 
rarer than genius to-day. "Victory" was the first word in 
the lexicon of youth yesterday noon; "discretion" and 
" safety" were at present of infinitely more consequence. I 
resolved, notwithstanding these qualms, to venture to the 
Kill-top: but at every step flitting projectiles took my 
breath. The music of the battle-field, I have often thought, 
should he introduced in opera. Not the drum, the bugle, or 
the fife, though these are thrilling, after their fashion ; but 
the music of modern ordnance and projectile, the beautiful 
whistle of the minnie-ball, the howl of shell that makes un- 
earthly havoc with the air, the whiz-z-z of solid shot, the 
chirp of bullets, the scream of grape and canister, the yell of 
immense conical cylinders, that fall like redhot stoves rnd 
spout burning coals. 

AH these passed over, beside, beneath, before, behind me. 
I seemed to be an iuvulnerable something at whom some 
cunning juggler was tossing steel, with an intent to impinge 
upon, not to strike him. I rode like one with his life in his 
hand, and so far as I remember, seemed to think of nothing. 
No fear, per se ; no regret, no adventure ; only expectancy. 
It was the expectancy of a shot, a choking, a loud cry, a 
stiffening, a dead, dull tumble, a quiver, and — blindness. 



46 



ON THE CHICKAHOMINY. 



But with this was mingled a sort of enjoyment, like that of 
the daring gamester, who has played his soul and is waiting 
for the decision of the cards. I felt all his suspense, more 
than his hope ; and withal, there was excitement in the play. 
Now a whistling ball seemed to pass just under my ear, and 
before I commenced to congratulate myself upon the escape, 
a shell, with a showery and revolving fuse, appeared to tak^ 
the top off my head. Then my heart expanded and con- 
tracted, and somehow I found myself conning rhymes. At 
each clipping ball — for I could hear them coming — a sort of 
coldness and paleness rose to the very roots of my hair, and 
was then replaced by a hot flush. I caught myself laughing, 
syllabically, and shrugging my shoulders, fitfully. Once, 
the rhyme that came to my lips — for I am sure there was no 
mind in the iteration — was the simple nursery prayer — 

" Now I lay me down to sleep," 

and I continued to say "down to sleep," "down to sleep," 
" down to sleep," till I discovered myself, when I ceased. 
Then a shell, apparently just in range, dashed toward me, and 
the words spasmodically leaped up : a Now's your time. 
This is your billet." With the same insane pertinacity I 
continued to repeat " Now's your time, now's your time," 
and " billet, billet, billet," till at last I came up to the near- 
est battery, where I could look over the crest of the hill ; 
and as if I had looked into the crater of a volcano, or down 
the fabled abyss into hell, the whole grand horror of a battle 
burst upon my sight. For a moment I could neither feel 
nor think. I scarcely beheld, or beholding did not under 
stand or perceive. Only the roar of guns, the blaze that 
flashed along a zigzag line and was straightway smothered 
in smoke, the creek lying glassily beneath me, the gathering 
twilight, and the brownish blue of woods ! I only knew 



ON THE CHICKAHOMINY. 



47 



that some thousands of fiends were playing with fire and 
tossing brands at heaven, — that some pleasant slopes, dells, 
and highlands were lit as if the conflagration of universes 
had commenced. There is a passage of Holy Writ that 
comes to my mind as I write, which explains the sensation 
of the time better than I can do : — 

" He opened the bottomless pit ; and there arose a smoke out o f 
the pit, as the smoke of a great furnace; and the sun and the air 
were darkened by reason of the smoke of the pit. 

u And there came out of the smoke locusts upon the earth." — 
Revelation, ix. 2, 3. 

In a few moments, when I was able to compose myself, 
the veil of cloud blew away or dissolved, and I could see 
fragments of the long columns of infantry. Then from the 
far end of the lines puffed smoke, and from man to man the 
puff ran down each line, enveloping the columns again, so 
that they were alternately visible and invisible. At points 
between the masses of infantry lay field pieces, throbbing 
with rapid deliveries, and emitting volumes of white steam. 
Now and then the firing slackened for a short time, when I 
could remark the Federal line, fringed with bayonets, stretch- 
ing from the low meadow on the left, up the slope, over the 
ridge, up and down the crest, until its right disappeared in 
the gloaming of wood and distance. Standards flapped here 
and there above the column, and I knew, from the fact that 
the line became momentarily more distinct, that the Federals 
were falling stubbornly back. At times a battery would 
dash a hundred yards forward, unlimber and fire a score of 
times, and directly would return two hundred yards and 
blaze again. I saw a regiment of lancers gather at the foot 
of a protecting swell of field ; the bugle rang thrice, the red 
pennons went upward like so many song birds, the mass 



48 



ON THE CHICKAHOMINT. 



turned the crest and disappeared, then the whole artillery 
belched and bellowed. In twenty minutes a broken, strag- 
gling, feeble group of horsemen returned ; the red pennons 
still fluttered, but I knew that they were redder for the blood 
that dyed them. Finally, the Federal infantry fell back to 
the foot of the hill on which I stood ; all the batteries were 
clustering around me, and suddenly a column of men shot 
up from the long sweep of the abandoned hill, with batteries 
on the left and right. Their muskets were turned toward 
us, a crash and a whirl of smoke swept from flank to flank, 
and the air around me rained buck, slug, bullet, and ball ! 

The incidents that now occurred in rapid succession were 
so thrilling and absorbing that my solicitude was lost in 
their grandeur. I sat like one dumb, with my soul in my 
eyes and my ears stunned, watching the terrible column of 
Confederates. Each party was now straining every energy, 
— the one for victory, the other against annihilation. The 
darkness was closing in, and neither cared to prolong the 
contest after night. The Confederates, therefore, aimed to 
finish their success with the rout or capture of the Federal^ 
and the Federals aimed to maintain their ground till night 
fall. The musketry was close, accurate, and uninterrupted. 
Every second was marked by a discharge, — the one firing, 
the other replying promptly. No attempt was now made to 
remove the wounded ; the coolness of the fight had gone by, 
and we witnessed only its fury. The stragglers seemed to 
appreciate the desperate emergency, and came voluntarily, 
back to relieve their comrades. The cavalry was massed, 
and collected for another grand charge. Like a black 
shadow gliding up the darkening hillside, they precipitated 
themselves upon the columns : the musketry ceased for the 
time, and shrieks, steel strokes, the crack of carbines an<? 



ON THE CHICKAHOITINT. 



49 



revolvers succeeded. Shattered, humiliated, sullen, the 
horse wheeled and returned. Then the guns thundered 
again, and by the blaze of the pieces, the clods and turf 
were revealed, fitfully strewn with men and horses. 

The vicinity of my position now exhibited traces of the 
battle. A caisson burst close by, and I heard the howl of 
dying wretches, as the fires flashed like meteors. A solid 
shot struck a field-carriage not thirty yards from my feet, 
and one of the flying splinters spitted a gunner as if he had 
been pierced by an arrow. An artillery-man was standing 
with folded arms so near that I could have reached to touch 
him ; a whistle and a thumping shock and he fell beneath 
my nag's head. I wonder, as I calmly recall these episodes 
now, how I escaped the death that played about me, chilled 
me, thrilled me, — but spared me ! " They are fixing bay 
onets for a charge. My God! See them come down the 
hill." 

In the gathering darkness, through the thick smoke, I 
saw or seemed to see the interminable column roll steadily 
downward. I fancied that I beheld great gaps cut in their 
ranks though closing solidly up, like the imperishable 
Gorgon. I may have heard some of this next day, and so 
confounded the testimonies of eye and ear. But I knew that 
there was a charge, and that the drivers were ordered to 
stand by their saddles, to run off the guns at any moment. 
The descent and bottom below me, were now all ablate, and 
directly above the din of cannon, rifle and pistol I heard a 
great cheer, as of some salvation achieved. 

M The Eebels are repulsed ! We have saved the guns !" 

A cheer greeted this announcement from the butery-men 
around me. They reloaded, rammed, swabbed, &Tvi fired, 
with naked arms, and drops of sweat furrowed ti e powder- 



50 



ON THE CHICKAHOMINY. 



stains upon their faces, The horses stood motionless, quiv- 
ering not half so much as the pieces. The grisly officers 
held to their match-strings, smothering the excitement of 
the time. All at once there was a running hither and 
thither, a pause in the thunder, a quick consultation — 

" 'Sdeath ! They have flanked us again." 

In an instant I seemed overwhelmed with men. For a 
moment I thought the enemy had surrounded us. 

" It's all up," said one ; " I shall cross the river." 

I wheeled my horse, fell in with the stream of fugitives, 
and was borne swiftly through field and lane and trampled 
fence to the swampy margin of the Chickahominy. At 
every step the shell fell in and among the fugitives, adding 
to their panic. I saw officers who had forgotten their regi- 
ments or had been deserted by them, wending with the 
mass. The wounded fell and were trodden upon. Personal 
exhibitions of valor and determination there were ; but the 
main body had lost heart, and were weary and hungry. 

As we approached the bridge, there was confusion and 
altercation ahead. The people were borne back upon me. 
Curses and threats ensued. 

"It is the provost-guard," said a fugitive, "driving back 
the boys." 

" Go back !" called a voice ahead. " I'll blow you to 
h — 11, if you don't go back ! Not a man shall cross the 
bridge without orders !" 

The stragglers were variously affected by this intelligence. 
Some cursed and threatened; some of the wounded blub- 
bered as they leaned languidly upon the shoulders of their 
comrades. Others stoically threw themselves on the ground 
and tried to sleep. One man called aloud that the " boys" 
were stronger than the Provosts, and that, therefore, the 
" boys" ought to " go in and win." 



4 



ON THE CHICKAHOMLNT. 



51 



u Where's the man that wants to mutiny?" said the voice 
ahead ; " let me see him !" 

The man slipped away ; for the provost officer spoke as 
though he meant all he said. 

" Nobody wants to mutiny !" called others. 

" Three cheers for the Union." 

The wounded and well threw up their hats together, and 
made a sickly hurrah. The grim officer relented, and he 
shouted stentoriously that he would take the responsibility 
of passing the wounded. These gathered themselves up 
and pushed through the throng ; but many skulkers plead 
injuries, and so escaped. "When I attempted to follow, on 
horseback, hands were laid upon me, and I was refused exit. 
In that hour of terror and sadness, there were yet jests and 
loud laughter. However keenly I felt these things, I had 
learned that modesty amounted to little in the army ; so I 
pushed my nag steadily forward, and scattered the camp 
vernacular, in the shape of imprecations, left and right. 

" Colonel," I called to the officer in command, as the line 
of bayonets edged me in, "may I pass out? I am a civil- 
ian I" 

" No !" said the Colonel, wrathfully. " This is no place 
for a civilian." 

" That's why I want to get away." 
" Pass out !" 

I followed the winding of the woods to Woodbury's 
Bridge, — the next above Grapevine Bridge. The approaches 
were clogged with wagons and field-pieces, and I understood 
that some panic-stricken people had pulled up some of the 
timbers to prevent a fancied pursuit. Along the sides of the 
bridge, many of the wounded were washing their wounds in 
the water, and the cries of the teamsters echoed weirdly 



52 



ON THE CHICKAHOMINY. 



through, the trees that grew in the river. At nine o'clock 
we got under way, — horsemen, batteries, ambulances, ammu- 
nition teams, infantry, and, finally, some great siege thirty 
two pounders that had been hauled from Gaines's House, 
One of these pieces broke down the timbers again, and my 
impression is that it was cast into the current. When we 
emerged from the swamp timber, the hills before us were 
found brilliantly illuminated with burning camps. I made 
toward head-quarters, in one of Trent's fields; but all the 
tents save one had been taken down, and lines of white-cov- 
ered wagons stretched southward until they were lost in the 
shadows. The tent of General McClellan alone remained, 
and beneath an arbor of pine boughs, close at hand, he sat, 
with his corps commanders and aides, holding a council of 
war. A ruddy fire lit up the historical group, and I thought 
at the time, as I have said a hundred times since, that the 
consultation might be selected for a grand national painting. 

The crisis, the hour, the adjuncts, the renowned partici- 
pants, peculiarly fit it for pictorial commemoration. 

The young commander sat in a chair, in full uniform, 
uncovered. Heintzelman was kneeling upon a fagot, ear- 
nestly speaking. De Joinville sat apart, by the fire, exam- 
ining a map. Fitz John Porter was standing back of 
McClellan, leaning upon his chair. Keyes, Franklin, and 
Sumner, were listening attentively. Some sentries paced 
to and fro, to keep out vulgar curiosity. Suddenly, there 
was a nodding of heads, as of some policy decided; they, 
threw themselves upon their steeds, and galloped off toward 
Michie's. 

As I reined at Michie's porch, at ten o'clock, the bridges 
behind me were blown up, with a flare that seemed a blazing 
of the northern lights. The family were sitting upon the 



ON THE CHICKAHOMINT. 



53 



porch, and Mrs. Michie was greatly alarmed with the idea 
that a battle would be fought round her house next day. 

O'Ganlon, of Meagher's staff, had taken the fever, and 
sent anxiously for me, to compare our symptoms. 

I bade the good people adieu before I went to bed, and 
gave the man " Pat" a dollar to stand by my horse while 
slept, and to awake me at any disturbance, that I might be 
ready to scamper. The man "Pat," I am bound to say, 
woke me up thrice by the exclamation of — 

" Sure, yer honor, there's — well — to pay in the yard ! I 
think ye and the doctor had better ride off." 

On each of those occasions, I found that the man Pat had 
been lonesome, and wanted somebody to speak to. 

What a sleep was mine that night ! I forgot my fever. 
But another and a hotter fever burned my temples — the 
fearful excitement of the time ! Whither were we to go, 
cut off from the York, beaten before Eichmond — perhaps 
even now surrounded — and to be butchered to-morrow, till 
the clouds should rain blood ? Were we to retreat one hun 
dred miles down the hostile Peninsula — a battle at every 
rod, a grave at every footstep? Then I remembered the 
wounded heaped at Gaines's Mill, and how they were groan- 
ing without remedy, ebbing at every pulse, counting the 
flashing drops, calling for water, for mercy, for death. So I 
found heart; for I was not buried yet. And somehow I 
felt that fate was to take me, as the great poet took Dante 
through other and greater horrors. 



54 



don't know the ropes. 



HAPPY TO MAKE GENERAL GORDON'S 
ACQUAINTANCE. 

General Gordon was a strict disciplinarian, who would 
never have any words with a private; and hence a joke. 
One day, one of the 107th New York Volunteers got ahead 
of the brigade, when the general halted him and ordered 
him back. The soldier stopped, turned around, stared at. 
General ^Gordon, and replied, "Who are you?" "I am 
General Gordon." " Ah, general, I am very happy to make 
your acquaintance !" was the complacent answer. A roar of 
laughter burst from the general's staff. 



DON'T KNOW THE ROPES. 

Western officers were proverbial for shocking bad uni- 
forms, and, in a majority of instances, it was rather difficult 
to distinguish them from the privates. Among this class 
was a brigadier-general named James Morgan, who looked 
more like a wagon-master than a soldier. On a certain oc- 
casion, a new recruit had just arrived in camp, lost a few 
articles, and was inquiring around among the "Yets" in 
hopes of finding them. An old soldier, fond of his sport, 
told the recruit the only thief in the brigade was in Jim 
Morgan's tent. The recruit immediately started for " Jim's'' 
quarters, and, poking his head in, asked : 

" Does Jim Morgan live here ?" 

"Yes," was the reply, "my name is James Morgan." 

"Then I want you to hand over those books you stole 
from me I" 



THE WESTERN SOLDIER. 55 

" 1 have none of your books, my man." 

" It's an infernal lie," indignantly exclaimed the recruit 
" The boys say yon are the only thief in the camp ; turn out 
them books, or I'll grind your carcass into apple sass." 

The general relished the joke much, bnt observing the 
sinewy recruit peeling off his coat, informed him of his rela- 
tions to the brigade, and the recruit walked off, merely re- 
marking : " Wall, blast me if I'd take you for a brigadier. 
Excuse me, general, I don't know the ropes yet. 



THE WESTERN SOLDIER. 

A war correspondent thus sketches that gallant specimen 
of the "Blue Coat," known as the "Western Soldier:" — 

"If there are men in the world gifted with the most 
thorough self-reliance, western soldiers are the men. To 
fight in the grand anger of battle seems to me to require less 
manly fortitude, after all, than to bear without murmuring 
the swarm of little troubles that vex camp and march. No 
matter where or when you halt, there they are at once at 
home. They know precisely what to do first, and they do 
it. I have seen them march into a strange region at dark, 
and almost as soon as fires would show well, they were 
twinkling all over the field, the Sibley cones rising like the 
work of enchantment everywhere, and the little dog -tents 
lying snug to the ground, as if, like the mushrooms, they 
had grown there, and the aroma of coffee and tortured bacon, 
suggesting creature comforts, and the whole economy of a 
life in canvas cities moving as steadily on as if it had never 
intermitted. The movements of regiments, you know, are as 



66 



THE WESTERN SOLDIEK. 



blind as fate. Nobody can tell to-night where he will be 
to-morrow, and yet with the first glimmer of morning the 
camp is astir, and the preparations begin for staying there 
forever ; cozy little cabins of red cedar, neatly fitted, are 
going up ; here a boy is making a fire-place, and quite 
artistically plastering it with the inevitable red earth ; he has 
found a crane somewhere, and swung up thereon a two- 
legged dinner-pot ; there a fellow is finishing out a chimney 
with, bricks from an old kiln of secession proclivities ; yonder 
a bower-house, closely woven of evergreens, is almost ready 
for the occupants; tables, stools, bedsteads, are tumbled 
together by the roughest of carpenters ; the avenues between 
the lines of tents are cleared and smoothed — 'policed,' in 
camp phrase — little seats with cedar awnings, in front of the 
tents, give a cottage look; while the interior, in a rude way, 
has a genuine home-like air. The bit of a looking-glass 
hangs against the cotton wall ; a handkerchief of a carpet, 
just before the ' bunk,' marks the stepping-off place to the 
land of dreams ; a violin case is strung up to a convenient 
hook, flanked by a gorgeous picture of some hero of some- 
where, mounted upon a horse rampant and saltant, ' and what 
a length of tail behind !' 

" Every wood, ravine, hill, field, is explored ; the produc- 
tions, animal and vegetable, are inventoried, and one day 
renders these soldiers as thoroughly conversant with the 
region round about, as if they had been dwelling there a life- 
time. They have tasted water from every spring and well, . 
estimated the corn to the acre, tried the water-melons, 
1 gagged' the peaches, knocked down the persimmons, milked 
the cows, roasted the pigs, picked the chickens ; they know 
who lives here, and there, and yonder, the whereabouts of 
the native boys, the names of the native girls. If there is a 



THE WESTERN SOLDIER. 



57 



curious cave, a queer tree, a strange rock anywhere about, f 
they know it. You can see them with the chisel, hammer 
and haversack, tugging up the mountain, or scrambling down 
the ravine in a geological passion that would have won the 
right hand of fellowship from Hugh Miller, and home they 
come with specimens that would enrich a cabinet. I have in 
my possession the most exquisite fossil buds just ready to 
open, beautiful shells, rare minerals, collected by these rough 
and dashing naturalists. If you think the rank and file have 
no taste for the beautiful, it is time you remembered of what 
material our armies are made. Nothing will catch a soldier's 
eye quicker than a patch of velvet muss, or a fresh little 
flower, and many a letter leaves the camp enriched with 
faded souvenirs of these expeditions. 

" The business of living has fairly begun again. 

"But at five o'clock, some dingy morning, obedient to 
sudden orders, the regiment marched away in good cheer ; 
, the army wagons go streaming and swearing after them ; the 
beat of the drum grows fainter ; the last straggler is out of 
sight ; the canvas city has vanished like a vision. On such 
a morning, and amid such a scene, I have loitered, till it 
seemed as if a busy . city had passed out of sight, leaving 
nothing behind for all that life and light, but empty deso- 
lation. Will you wonder much, if I tell you that I have 
watched such a vanishing with a pang of regret ; that the 
trampled field looked dim to me, worn smooth and beautiful 
by the touch of those brave feet, whose owners have trod 
upon thorns with song — feet, alas, how many, that shall 
never again in all this coming and going world make music 
upon the "old thresholds! And how many such sites of 
perished cities this war has made ! how many bonds of good 
fellowship have been rent to be united no more P 



58 



A PHILOSOPHICAL DARKEY. 



A PHILOSOPHICAL DAEKEY. 

An elderly darkey, with a very philosophical and retro 
spective cast of countenance, was squatting upon his bundle 
on the hurricane deck of one of the western river steamers, 
toasting his shins against the chimney, and apparently 
plunged in a state of profound meditation. His appearance 
and dress indicated familiarity with camp life, and it being 
soon after the siege and capture of Fort Donelson, I was in- 
clined to disturb his reveries, and on interrogation, found he 
had been with the Union forces at that place, when I ques- 
tioned him further. His philosophy was so much in the 
Falstaffian vein, that I will give his views in his own words, 
as near as my memory will serve me. 

" Were you in the fight ?" 

" Had a little taste of it, sa." 

" Stood your ground, did you ?" 

" No, sa, I runs." 

" Eun at the first fire, did you ?" 

" Yes, sa, an' would hab run soona hab I know'd it was 
coming." 

" Why, that wasn't very creditable to your courage." 

" Dat isn't in my line, sa — cookin's my profession." 

" Well, but have you no regard for your reputation ?" 

" Eeputation's nuffin to me by de side of life." 

"Do you consider your life worth more than other 
people's?" 

" It's worth more to me, sa." 

" Then you must value it very highly." 

" Yes, sa, I does — more dan all dis world — more dan a 
million ob dollars, sa, for what would dat be wuth to a man 
wid de bref out ob him ? Self-preserbashun am de fust law 
wid me, sa." 



ROUGH ON THE CAVALRY. 59 

"But why should you act upon a different rule from other 
men ?" 

" Cause, sa, different men sets different value upon dar 
selves. My life is not in de market." 

" But if you lost it, you would have the satisfaction of 
knowing that you died for your country." 

" What satisfaction would dat be to me, when de power 
ob feelin' was gone ?" 

" Then patriotism and honor are nothing to you I" 

"Nuffin whatever, sa — I regard dem as among de canities." 

"If our soldiers were like you, traitors might have broken 
up the government without resistance." 

" Yes, sa, dar would hab been no help for it. I wouldn't 
put my life in the scale 'ginst any gobernment dat eber 
existed, for no gobernment could replace de loss to me. 
'Spect, dough, dat de gobernment safe if dey all like me." 

" Do you think any of your company would have missed 
you if you had been killed?" 

" May be not, sa. A dead white man ain't much to dese 
sogers, let alone a dead nigga, but I'd a missed myself, and 
dat was de pint wid me." 

It is safe to say that the dusky corpse of that African will 
never darken the field of carnage. 



BOUGH ON THE CAVALKY. 

An anecdote is told of General Hooker, which shows that 
his opinion of one branch of the military service was just 
right. Soon after he assumed command of the Army of the 
Potomac he summoned to headquarters all the principal 



60 



THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIYER. 



cavalry officers in his command, twenty-five or thirty in 
number. Arranged in a semicircle, facing him, he addressed 
them after this manner, very coolly and with low voice at 
first, but warming as he proceeded : — " Gentleman : I have 
called you together to consult with you in regard to the 
cavalry arm of the service. I think it should be, and may 
be, made more efficient. It seems to me to be at present a 
very costly show — very expensive and very useless. Why, 
gentlemen," moving up and taking a step forward, " I'll be 

if I have ever seen or have ever heard of a dead 

cavalry-man!" 



THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIYER, 

I NOW proceeded to Savage Station. I shall not attempt 
to describe the sombre picture of gloom, confusion and dis- 
tress, which oppressed me there. I found officers endeavoring 
to fight off the true meaning. Anxiety at headquarters was 
too apparent to one who had studied that branch of the army 
too sharply to be deluded by thin masks. Other external 
signs were demonstrative. The wretched spectacle of man- 
gled men from yesterday's battle, prone upon the lawn, 
around the hospital, the wearied, haggard, and smoke-be- 
grimed faces of men who had fought, were concomitants of 
every battle-field, yet they formed the sombre coloring of the 
ominous picture before me. Then there were hundreds who 
had straggled from the field, sprawled upon every space 
where there was a shadow of a leaf to protect them from a 
broiling sun; a hurry and tumult of wagons and artillery 
trains, endless almost, rushing down the roads toward the 
new base, moving with a sort of orderly confusion, almost as 



THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIVER. 61 



distressing as panic itself. But I venture that few of al] thafe 
hastening throng, excepting old officers, understood the mis- 
fortune. Strange to say, that even then, almost eleven 
o'clock, communication with White House by railroad and 
telegraph was uninterrupted, but soon after eleven the wires 
suddenly ceased to vibrate intelligibly. 

From headquarters I passed along our lines. The troops 
still stood at the breastworks ready for battle ; but it was 
evident they had begun to inquire into the situation. Some 
apprehensive officers had caught a hint of the mysteries 
which prevailed. The trains were ordered to move, troops 
to hold themselves in readiness to march at any moment. So 
passed that day, dreadful in its moral attributes as a day of 
pestilence, and when night closed upon the dreary scene, the 
enterprise had fully begun. Endless streams of artillery- 
trains, wagons, and funeral ambulances, poured down the 
roads from all the camps, and plunged into the narrow funnel 
which was our only hope of escape. And now the exquisite 
truth flashed upon me. It was absolutely necessary, foi the 
salvation of the army and the cause, that our wounded and 
mangled braves, who lay moaning in physical agony in our 
hospitals, should be deserted and left in the hands of the 
enemy. Oh ! the cruel horrors of war. Do you wonder, 
my friends, that the features of youth wrinkle, and that the 
strong man's beard silvers soon, amid such scenes? The 
signature of age indites itself full soon upon the smoothest 
face of warriors and those who witness war's cruelty. Ah ! 
well, another night of sorrow, without catastrophe. Officers 
were on horseback nearly all night, ordering the great 
caravan and its escorts. No wink of sleep again ; no peace 
of mind for any who realized the peril of our country if 
those blank hours. 



62 THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIYER. 



At daylight, General McClellan was on the road. Thou- 
sands of cattle, of wagons, and our immense train of artillery, 
intermingled with infantry and great troops of cavalry, 
choked up the road already. Gen. Sumner's, Heintzelman's, 
and Franklin's corps, under Sumner's command, had been 
left to guard the rear, with orders to fall back at daylight, 
and hold the enemy in check till night. A noble army for 
sacrifice, and some, oh ! how many, must fall to save the 
rest. The very slightest movement from the front was 
critical. At no point along the line were we more than three 
fourths of a mile from the enemy, and in front of Sedgwick's 
line they were not over six hundred yards distant. The 
slightest vibration at any point was apt to thrill the rebel 
lines from centre to wings. But fortunately, by skilful 
secrecy, column after column was marched to the rear — 
Franklin first, Sedgwick next, then Eichardson and Hooker, 
and lastly the kmghtly Kearney. 

A mile had been swiftly traversed, when these splendid 
columns quickly turned at bay. The moment was most 
thrilling, most trying to stoutest nerves. The enemy, keen- 
scented and watchful, had discovered the retrograde, and 
quick as thought were swarming through our late impass- 
able entanglements, and came yelling at our heels like insa- 
tiate savages. Full soon our camps had hived countless 
numbers, and red battle began to stamp his foot. Gallant 
Burns was first to feel the shock. One of his favorite regi- 
ments — Baxter's Philadelphia Fire Zouaves — had been as-* 
signed to support a battery. As the enemy advanced it 
opened hotly upon them, but undismayed, they pressed to 
the charge. Burns held firm his men until the enemy - 
seemed almost ready to plunge upon the guns. Then, wav- 
ing his sword, he ordered his trusty fellows to fire. A bas 



THE RETREAT TC THE JAMES RIVER. 63 



ketful of canister, fearful volleys of musketry, and all who 
were left of that slaughtered column of rebels fled howling 
to the rear. Fresh masses poured out and were sent surging 
back again, until finally they stood aloof, content to watch 
and wait a happier moment to assail that desperate front. 
Meantime, almost every vestige of camp-furniture, which 
had been left in camp, had been examined by the enemy 
with disappointment and rage. We had destroyed all we 
could not transport. 

Toward noon the line had retired several miles, and rested 
behind Savage Station, to destroy the public property which 
had accumulated there. A locomotive on the railway was 
started swiftly down the road, with a train of cars, and soon 
plunged madly into the Chickahominy, a mangled wreck. 
The match was applied to stores of every description, and 
ammunition was exploded, until nothing was left to appease 
the rebel appetite for prey. Destruction was complete, and 
the ruins were more touchingly desolate amid the mangled 
victims of war's ruthlessness, who lay on the hillside mourn- 
ing the departure of friends with whom they had bravely 
fought. Would that such pictures could be sealed up in the 
book of memory, never to be opened to the human heart. 
Many a manly fellow has told me since that all human sorrow 
seemed condensed into that one woeful parting. If it were 
ever manful to shed tears, men might then have wept like 
Niobe. Let us draw the veil to hide the wounds more agon- 
izing than rude weapon ever rent. Hundreds — I don't know 
how many — were left upon the green sward and in our too 
limited hospitals, to wait the cold charities of bitter enemies. 

The advance column and all that mighty train had now 
been swallowed in the maw of the dreary forest. It swept 
onward, onward, fast and furious like an avalanche. Every 



64 THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIYER. 



hour of silence behind was ominous, but hours were precious 
to us. Pioneer bands were rushing along in front, clearing 
and repairing our single road ; reconnoissance officers were 
seeking new routes for a haven of rest and safety. The 
enemy was in the rear pressing on with fearful power. He 
lould press down flankward to our front, cutting off our retreat. 
Would such be our fate ? The vanguard had passed White 
Oak Bridge and had risen to a fine defensive post, flanked by 
White Oak Swamps, where part of the train at least could 
rest. How sadly the feeble ones needed it, those who having 
suspected their friends were about to abandon them, trusted 
rather to the strength of fear to lead them to safety, than to 
the fate which might await them at the hands of the foe. 
But the march was orderly as upon any less urgent day, only 
swiicer — and marvellous, too, it seemed that such caravans 
of wagons, artillery, horsemen, soldiers, camp-followers, and 
all, should press through that narrow road with so little 
confusion. 

Two miles beyond the bridge the column suddenly halted. 
A tremor thrilled along the line. A moment more, and the 
dull boom of a cannon and its echoing shell fell grimly upon 
our ears. Were we beleaguered ? An hour later, and there 
was an ominous roar behind. The enemy was thundering on 
our rear. I know that the moment was painful to many, but 
no soldier's heart seemed to shrink from the desperate shock. 
Back and forth dashed hot riders. Messengers here, orders 
there, composure and decision where it should be, with determi- 
nation to wrest triumph from the jaws of disaster. As yeC 
every thing had prospered, and at noon a brighter ray flashed 
athwart our dreary horizon. Averill — our dashing "Ashby" 
— had moved with the vanguard, met eight companies of 
rebel cavalry, charged them, routed them, pursued them 



THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIVER. 



65 



miles beyond our reach, and returned in triumph with sixty 
prisoners and horses, leaving nine dead foes on the field. He 
explained it modestly, but I saw old generals thank him for 
the gallant exploit — not the first of his youthful career. 
General Keyes had sent a section of artillery with the van- 
guard, Averill's cavalry escorting it. The rebels charged 
at the guns, not perceiving our cavalry, which was screened 
by thickets. The artillery gave them shell and canister, 
which checked their mad career. Averill charged, and 
horse, rider and all were in one red burial blent. Dead 
horses are scattered over that field, and dead men lie under 
the shadows of the forests. We lost but one brave trooper. 

Headquarters, which had tarried near the bridge, were 
now moved two miles beyond. Keyes' corps was for- 
warded, Sykes was guarding our flanks, Morell was moving 
behind Keyes, Fitz John Porter stood guard around the 
camp. Day was wearing away. An awful tumult in rear, 
as if the elements were contending, had been moving senses 
with exquisite power. Foaming steeds and flushed riders 
dashed into camp. Stout Sumner was still holding his own. 
The enemy was raging around him like famished wolves. 
There seemed to be a foe behind every tree; but the old 
hero and his gallant soldiers fought like lions. You could 
see the baleful fires of cannon flashing against the dusky 
horizon, playing on the surface of the evening clouds like 
sharp magnetic lights. Long lines of musketry vomited 
their furious volleys of pestilential lead through the forests, 
sweeping scores of brave soldiers into the valley of the 
shadow of death. And nature now, as if emulous of man's 
fury, flashed its red artillery, and rolled its grand thunder 
over the domes of Eichmond, now miles to the right of us. 
Moment after moment elapsed before even practiced soldier? 
5 



66 THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIYER. 



could decide which was the power of God and which was the 
conflict of man, so strangely similar were the twin reverbe- 
rations. But the deep glare of electricity recorded the truth 
in yivid lines of fire. No combination of the dreadful in art 
and the magnificent in nature was ever more solemnly im- 
pressive. 

Nothing struck me so keenly during all that gloomy day 
and more desolate night, as the thinly disguised uneasiness 
of those to whom the country had intrusted its fate. It 
was well that soldiers who carry muskets did not read the 
agony traced upon the face of that leader whom they had 
learned to love. A few in that gloomy bivouac folded their 
arms to sleep, but most were too exhausted to enjoy that 
blessed relief. That dreadful tumult, but a few short miles 
in the distance, raged till long after the whippoorwill had 
commenced his plaintive song. Late at night, couriers, hot 
from the field, dashed in with glad tidings. Sumner had 
beaten the enemy at every point, until they were glad to 
cease attack. The warrior was advised by Gen. McClellan to 
retire quietly to our main body ; but the old man, game as a 
king-eagle, begged to be permitted to drive the rebels home. 
Said a general to me: "Old Bull Sumner didn't want to 
quit. The game old fellow had to be choked off." 

That battle in the forests was a contest of desperation. A 
haughty and revengeful foe, confident in victory and num- 
bers, pressed us to the wall, and that spirit of resistance 
which should inflame every army of the north against those 
who war upon constitutional liberty, met them hand to hand ; 
steel to steel, and drove them to their dens. It was a Sunday 
battle. 

That night there was another strange meteorological phe- 
nomenon. I suppose it was about midnight. The lights at 



THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIYER. 67 



Headquarters wero still blazing. The commander was yet 
working with unyielding devotion ; aids were still riding fast, 
but all else was silent. I had just fallen into slumber — the 
first during two weary nights — when I was startled by what 
we all thought was the terrific uproar of battle. Again and 
again it thundered, and rolled sublimely away off on the 
borders of Chickahominy. For some moments we feared the 
enemy had crossed the river behind our rear guard and was 
destroying our right wing in the darkness. Many who sus- 
pected they might be victims of a delusion — most natural in 
that critical period, when nothing but the sound of cannon 
and musketry had been the most familiar sounds of our 
camps for months — criticised their senses sharply, but still 
the uproar was so wonderfully like battle, that we could not 
shake the opinion from our minds that a night-fight was 
going on. Five minutes elapsed, I suppose, before the rag- 
ged crown of a black cloud in the distance reared itself 
above the forests, and dispelled the gloomy deception. 

Morning beamed upon us again brilliantly but hotly. We 
thanked Heaven that it had not rained. The enemy had not 
yet appeared in our front. Sumner had brought off his 
splendid command; Franklin was posted strongly on the 
south bank of White Oak creek; Heintzelman was on his 
left ; Keyes' corps was moving swiftly to James river, down 
the Charles City and Quaker road ; Porter and part of Sum- 
ner's corps were following rapidly. 

Moving to the rear to learn the fate of friends, the history 
of yesterday's bitter conflict was sketched for me in the hag 
gard features of the weary men who had fallen exhausted in 
their forest bivouac. B rave old Sumner's face bore traces of 
the excoriating fire of battle, but his features were radiant 
with smiles. He was eloquent in his praises of his com 



68 



THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIYER. 



mand. "Burns had borne the brunt of the light, and he did 
it magnificently, sir." Sedgwick, who had been sick for 
days, had stemmed the torrent grimly. His first words were : 
" B., that was Burns' fight. He showed himself a splendid 
soldier. Let the world know his merits. He deserves all 
you can say." Sedgwick seldom praises men. But he is a 
gallant soldier himself, and he appreciates merit. I found 
General Burns stretched under a lofty pine, and his warriors 
were slumbering around him painfully. His eyes were hol- 
low and bloodshot, his handsome features pale and thin, his 
beard and his clothing were clotted with blood, his face was 
bandaged, concealing a ragged and painful wound in his 
nether jaw. It was enough to make a sphynx weep to look 
upon the work of an awful day upon such a man. His voice 
was husky from his exhortations and battle-cries, and tremu- 
lous with emotion, when grasping my hands, he said, with 
exquisite pathos : " My friend, many of my poor fellows lie in 
those forests. It is terrible to leave them there. Blakeney 
is wounded, McGonigle is gone, and many will see us no 
more. We are hungry and exhausted, and the enemy — the 
Jbrest is full of people — are thundering at our heels. It is 
an awful affliction. We will fight them, feeble as we are — 
but with what hope !" To know such a man ; to feel how 
keenly he realized his situation ; to watch his quivering lips 
and sad play of features, usually so joyous — friends ! it 
was anguish itself. And there was a townsman of yours 
there, who won imperishable honor — William G. Jones, 
lieutenant-colonel, who but one short week ago took com- 
mand of the First California regiment. He handled it like a 
veteran, and behaved like a Bayard. His new command, 
fired by his enthusiasm and daring even beyond their old 
prowess, did deeds which General Sumner himself said enti- 



THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIVER. 



69 



tied them to the glory of heroes. So hot was the fight and 
so hot the work, that Jones once fell headlong from his horse, 
from exhaustion, but recovering soon, he resumed his sword 
and again led his gallant fellows to the charge. General 
Burns speaks so warmly of the devotion and heroism ot 
George Hicks, of Camblos, and Blakeney, and Griffiths, hi 
staff and his colonels, Morehead, Baxter and Owens, their 
countrymen should know their worth. So Sedgwick speaks 
of his adjutant, Captain Sedgwick, and of Howe, his aid. 
So Sumner speaks of Clark, and of Kipp, and of Tompkins 
and of all in his command. In that fray Sedgwick's division 
lost six hundred men, and four hundred more of various 
corps are not among their comrades. General Brooks also 
was wounded in the right leg, but not seriously. The enemy 
first attacked at Orchard Station, near Fair Oaks, in the 
morning, but were soon driven off. At about noon they 
returned in heavy force from the front of Eichmond, while a 
strong column was thrown across Chickahominy, at Alexan- 
der's bridge, near the railway crossing. They first appeared 
in the edge of the woods south of Trent's and opened upon 
our column on the Williamsburg road with shell. At the 
same time they trained a heavy gun upon our line from the 
bridge they had just crossed. They still seemed deluded 
with the belief that General McClellan intended to retreat to 
the Pamunkey, and all day long they had marched heavy 
columns from their camps in front of Eichmond across New 
bridge, to strengthen Jackson still more. Happy delusion ! 
- Their first shells exploded around and over the hospitals 
at Savage Station, but it is just to say it was not intentional.' 
They next opened upon a cluster of officers, including Sum- 
ner, Sedgwick, Eichardson, Burns, and their staffs, missing 
them fortunately, but covering them with dust. Our own 



70 THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIVER. 



batteries were now in full clamor, and both sides hanot.di 
their guns skilfully. The object of the enemy seemed to bo 
to break our right centre, and, consequently, Burns' brigade 
was the recipient of the principal share of their favor. As 
the afternoon wore away, the combatants drew closer together, 
and the conflict became one of the sharpest of the battles on 
Virginia soil. Two companies of one regiment stampeded. 
General Burns flung himself across their track, waved his 
bullet- shattered hat, expostulated, exhorted, entreated, threat- 
ened, imprecated, under a storm of lead, and at last, throwing 
his hat in an agony of despair upon the ground, begged them 
to rally once more, and preserve them and him from dis- 
grace. The last appeal touched them. The men wheeled 
with alacrity, and fought like heroes until the carnage ceased. 
Each regiment distinguished itself so conspicuously, that in 
happier times their names will be inscribed in general orders, 
but there was such a number of regiments and officers en- 
gaged, that the record would make a volume. Suffice it that 
none but those I expected, and who redeemed themselves 
subsequently, faltered in the fight. Sumner's corps held the 
field till Heintzelman's corps had retired, and then moved 
quietly and swiftly back, under cover of night and the forests, 
across White Oak bridge. 

Our trains had now passed White Oak bridge. Such an 
achievement, in such order, under the circumstances, might 
well be regarded wonderful. The retreat was most ably con- 
ducted. Until this day (Monday), the enemy seems con 
stantly to have operated upon the supposition that our army 
was intending to retire to the Pamunkey. They had been 
deluded into this belief by the seventeenth New York and 
eighteenth Massachusetts regiments, together with part of 
the first, second and sixth regular cavalry, which had been 



THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIVER. 



71 



sent out to Old Church on Thursday morning, to impress the 
enemy with that notion. (Par parenthese, they retired safely 
to Yorktown, and are now at Malvern Hill.) But our true 
object must now have become apparent, and it was vitally 
necessary to get the trains through before the enemy could 
push columns down the Charles City, Central and New- 
Market roads. But until eight o'clock in the morning, we 
had no knowledge of any but the Quaker road to the point 
at which we now aimed — Harding's Landing and Malvern 
Hill, in Turkey Bend. Sharp reconnoissance, however, had 
found another, and soon our tremendous land-fleet was sailing 
down two roads, and our long artillery train of two hundred 
and fifty guns and equipments were lumbering after them 
with furious but orderly speed. So perfect was the order — 
although to an unpracticed eye it would have seemed the con- 
fusion of Babel — that the roads were blockaded but two 01 
three times. The topography of the country had now become 
such, that infantry could march through the woods, in paral- 
lel lines, on both sides of the trains, while White Oak Swamp 
fortunately protected our flanks from cavalry. We were 
getting on admirably, and it was apparent that the whole 
army would be safely in position before sunset, unless the 
enemy should attack. 

At about ten o'clock, General McClellan pushed to the 
river, communicating with Commodore Eodgers, and had the 
gunboat fleet posted to aid us against the enemy. The case 
was desperate, but it was a relief to reach the river, where we 
could turn at bay, with our rear protected by the James, and 
flanks partially covered by gunboats. Tidings, however, had 
been received that the enemy was pushing swiftly upon us in 
several columns of immense numbers, apparently determined 
to crush us or drive us into the river that night. They 



72 



THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIVER. 



opened fiercely with shell upon Smith's division at White 
Oak bridge. After burning down the house of a good seces- 
sionist, and breaking his leg, the enemy extended his line of 
fire, and soon engaged our entire rear-guard, striking at Slo- 
cum, who was guarding against a flank movement designed 
to cut our column in twain. 

Long before this, our vanguard had debouched from the 
road into the field before Turkey Bend, and our reserve 
artillery was powerfully posted on Malvern Hill, a magnifi- 
cent bluff covering Harding's Landing, where our gunboats 
were cruising. Here was a glorious prospect. Though our 
gallant fellows were bravely holding the fierce enemy at bay 
to cover the swiftly escaping trains, it was clear our troubles 
were not ended. We had again deceived the enemy by go- 
ing to Turkey Bend. He had imagined we were marching 
to New-Market, destined to a point on Cliff Bottom road, near 
Fort Darling. It was not far away, and the enemy was 
massing his troops upon us on the left and on our new front ; 
for when we arrived at Malvern Hill, the wings of the army 
as organized were reversed, Keyes taking the right, Porter's 
corps the left, as we faced Eichmond. Our line now de 
scribed a great arc, and there was fighting around three fourths 
of the perimeter. 

General McClellan, who had already communicated with 
the gunboats, returned from the front to Malvern Hills, 
which were made his battle headquarters, and dispositions 
for a final emergency were made. Fitz John Porter was 
marched from the valley under the hill to his post on the 
western crest of the hill, where he could rake the plains to- 
ward Eichmond. Our splendid artillery was picturesquely 
poised in ian shape at salient points, and its supports were 
disposed in admirable cover in hollows between undulations 



THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIVER. 73 



of the bluff. Powerful concentrating batteries were also 
posted in the centre, so that, to use the language of Colonel 
Sweitzer : u We'll clothe this hill in sheets of flame before 
they take it." It was a magnificent spectacle. The roar of 
combat grew tremendous as the afternoon wore away. There 
was no time then nor afterward to ascertain dispositions ot 
particular organizations. They were thrown together wher- 
ever emergency demanded. White Oak bridge, the Quaker 
road, Charles City road, the banks of Turkey creek, were 
enveloped in smoke and flame ; iron and lead crashed through 
forests and men like a destroying pestilence. A masked 
battery, which had opened from the swamp under Malvern 
Hill, began to prove inconvenient to Porter. It ploughed 
and crashed through some of our wagons, and disturbed 
groups of officers in the splendid groves of Malvern mansion. 
The gunboat Galena, anchored on the opposite side of Turkey 
island, and the Aroostook, cruising at the head of the island, 
opened their ports and plunged their awful metal into the 
rebel cover with Titanic force. Toward sunset the earth 
quivered with the terrific concussion of artillery, and huge 
explosions. The vast aerial auditorium seemed convulsed 
with the commotion of frightful sounds. Shells raced like 
dark meteors athwart the horizon, crossing each other at 
eccentric angles, exploding into deadly iron hail and fantastic 
puffs of smoke, until ether was displaced by a vast cloud of 
white fumes, through which even the fierce blaze of a setting 
Bummer's sun could but grimly penetrate. Softly puffing 
above the dark curtain of forest which masked the battle- 
field, there was another fleece which struggled through the 
dense foliage like heavy mist-clouds, and streaming upward 
in curious eddies with the ever-varying current of the winds, 
minghd with and absorbed the canopy of smoke which 



74 



THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIVER. 



floated from the surface of the plains and river. The battle- 
stained sun, sinking majestically into the horizon behind 
Eichmond, burnished the fringe of gossamer with lurid and 
golden glory ; and as fantastic columns capriciously whiffed 
up from the woods, they were suddenly transformed into pil- 
lars of lambent flame, radiant with exquisite beauty, which 
would soon separate into a thousand picturesque forms, and 
fade into dim capacity. But the convulsion beneath was not 
a spectacle for curious eyes. The forms of smoke-masked 
warriors, the gleam of muskets on the plains where soldiers 
were disengaged, the artistic order of battle on Malvern Hill, 
the wild career of wilder horsemen plunging to and from and 
across the field, formed a scene of exciting grandeur. In the 
forest where eyes did not penetrate there was nothing but the 
exhilarating and exhausting spasm of battle. Baleful fires 
blazed among the trees, and death struck many shining 
marks. Our haggard men stood there with grand courage, 
fighting more like creatures of loftier mould than men. 
Wearied and jaded, and hungry and thirsty, beset by almost 
countless foes, they cheered and fought and charged into the 
very jaws of death, until veteran soldiers fairly wept at their 
devotion. It was wonderful how our noble fellows fought ; 
wonderful how their hearts swelled with greatness ; and, as 
the enemy, in very madness at the terrible bitterness with 
which they resisted, plunged fresh columns against them — 
one, two, three, four, five lines of battle, fresh men each time, 
and stronger than each predecessor, our glorious soldiers still 
fought and still repelled the revengeful foe. " History," said 
a general, " never saw more splendid self-immolation. It 
was agonizing to see the men stand in the ranks and fight 
till exhausted nature could do no more." At last deep dark- 
ness ended the fight. The enemy withdrew and sat himself 



THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIVER. 



75 



down to watch his prey. We had beaten him back. But 
the morrow ! Would the enemy strike our ragged columns 
again ? 

Perhaps one of the noblest spectacles in martial history 
was improvised in Fitz John Porter's camp, when his veteran 
volunteers were ordered to the battle-field. They had eaten 
nothing for thirty-six hours. Thursday some of them had 
fought. Friday they fought all day long and into night. 
That night they marched across the river. Next day they 
marched again. That night they kept watch in White Oak 
Swamp. And Monday they marched again. The fiery sun 
had parched their feet, hunger and thirst and labor had 
enfeebled their bodies, but Monday afternoon, when orders 
came to move again to the field, the color-bearers stepped to 
the front with their proud standards ; the drums beat a rally- 
ing rataplan, and those devoted followers of the u banner of 
beauty and glory" swung aloft their hats, and shouted with 
soul-stirring enthusiasm. The eyes of their generals flashed 
fire as their faces lighted up with sudden glory ; and officers 
stepped together in clusters, and swore solemnly that life 
should be sacrificed before that flag should fall. "My life," 
said one, " is nothing, if I have no country." And again the 
noble fellows shouted their war-notes. Weak as they were 
I saw them move to the field at double-quick. When they 
fly, the Army of the Potomac will be no more. 

Night seemed to bring a little more relief. The enemy 
could not press us then. But would he to-morrow ? It was 
believed that he was massing all his power to crush us in 
combined attack. Oh ! that our soldiers could rest a day, even. 
Alas ! they could not rest at night. Their salvation, it seemed, 
depended more upon their labor now than upon their guns. 
Into the trenches, ye braves, and work t ; U morn summons 



76 



THE RETREAT TO THE JAMES RIVER. 



you to battle. And so they labored, some dropping listlessly 
in the trenches, exhausted nature refusing to endure more. 

I cannot detail the battle of Monday. Brigades, and regi- 
ments, and companies, and fragments of each, were fought as 
they could be used. It matters not who were here or there. 
It was a terrible battle. General McCall was lost General 
Sumner was twice wounded, but not seriously. His wounds 
were bound on the field, and he remained in the saddle, and 
in the fiery torrent. Colonel Wyman, too, of the eighteenth 
Massachusetts, was killed. General Meade was severely 
wounded. How many others I cannot tell. It was a bloody 
day. There will be weeping at many a hearthstone, and 
many a loved one was lost who will be sought for long and 
never found. 

Sumner, and Heintzelman, and Franklin, and Hooker, and 
Smith, and Sedgwick, and McCall — Hancock, and Davidson, 
and Meade, and Seymour, and Burns, and Sickles, and Sully, 
and Owens, and dead Wyman, and all the galaxy of brave 
leaders, won title to glorious honors. They tell me that the rebel 
General Longstreet was wounded, and two other generals lay 
dead on the field, with long lines of rebel officers and heca- 
tombs of men. Melancholy satisfaction for such dead as ours. 

The enemy was beaten again, thank God ! beaten badly, 
driven back, slaughtered fearfully. The gunboats had at 
least a moral agency in the fight. It did not appear that 
their guns could do more than protect the left flank, which 
was much, and the enemy was shy of that point. 

Tuesday, the first of July, was not a cheerful day. The 
prospect was not happy. It was gloomy at headquarters. 
The troops were intrenching the hill, and standing to arms. 
The enemy were reported massing their forces. We were 
preparing to repel them. At noon silence was broken by 



A CHARACTERISTIC INDORSEMENT. 



77 



hostile cannon in the extreme front. As afternoon wore 
away, the bombardment increased. At five o'clock there was 
a battle, and the Aroostook was hurling shell into the woods 
At about seven o'clock the firing was heavy, but it was con* 
fined to a narrow circle. Ayres was driving the enemy from 
his batteries. Our boat pushed from the landing. At dark 
we moved from Harrison's Landing, seven miles below. The 
army had not moved there ; the trains had. Soon after we 
steamed into the channel, the bombardment grew heavier 
The gunboats were thundering into the forests. 

When I left the prospect was cheerless. That night we met 
reinforcements. Before morning the army was strengthened 
Pray God it was made strong enough to go to Eichmond. 

This retreat of General McClellan was masterly. He car- 
ried all that army, and all his trains, successfully through one 
narrow road, while encompassed by enemies two-fold as strong 
as his army. 



A CHAEACTBEISTIO INDOESEMENT. 

Franklin W. Smith, a Boston contractor, was tried by 
court-martial, and found guilty of pocketing a thousand or 
two dollars out of a contract with the navy department for 
supplies. The report of the court-martial was sent to Presi- 
dent Lincoln for his examination, who returned it with this 
characteristic indorsement : — 

" Whereas, Franklin W. Smith had transactions with the 
United States Navy Department, to a million and a quarter of 
dollars, and had the chance to steal a quarter of a million ; 
and whereas, he was charged with stealing only ten thousand 



78 



A STIRRING SCENE. 



dollars, and from the final revision of the testimony, it is only 
claimed that he stole one hundred dollars, I don't believe 
he stole any thing at all. 

" Therefore, the records of the court-martial, together with 
the finding and sentence, are disapproved, declared null and 
void, and the defendant is fully discharged. 

"A. Lincoln." 



A SUBBING- SCENE. 

The night after the battle of Mission Bidge, General Sheri- 
dan went in pursuit of the flying enemy, and met with a 
sharp resistance, near Chickamauga Station, some two miles 
beyond the Bidge. At about seven o'clock of that Novem- 
ber evening, he sent a regiment to take possession of a little 
promontory jutting out into the valley, which would give 
him a vast advantage. The musketry were briskly playing 
all the while, time was precious, the position important, the 
regiment a long time executing the movement, and Sheridan, 
anxious and impatient, was watching the sky line to see the 
troops emerge from the shadows, and move along the clear- 
cut crest of the promontory. The moon, then near the full, 
had just risen above the edge of the hill, when the battalions 
moved out of the darkness, and exactly across the moon's 
disc. There for an instant, was the regiment, colors and 
gleaming arms in bold relief and motionless — a regiment 
transferred to heaven ! And there was the moon, a great 
medallion struck in the twinkling of an eye, as if in honor 
of that deathless day. The general's eye brightened at the 
sight. Even there and then it was something to be thought 
of; to be seen but a moment — to be remembered forever. 



THE CAVALRY CHARGE. 



THE CAVALRY CHARGE. 

With bray of the trumpet 

And roll of the drum, 
And keen ring of bugles, 

The cavalry come. 
Sharp clank the steel scabbards, 

The bridle-chains ring, 
And foam from red nostrils 

The wild chargers fling. 

Tramp ! tramp ! o'er the green sward 

That quivers below, 
Scarce held by the curb-bit, 

The fierce horses go ! 
And the grim-visaged colonel, 

With ear-rending shout, 
Peals forth to the squadrons, 

The order— "Trot out." 

One hand on the sabre, 

And one on the rein, 
The troopers move forward 

In line on the plain. 
As rings the word " Gallop !" 

The steel scabbards clank, 
And each rowel is pressed 

To a horse's hot flank ; 
And swift is their rush 

As the wild torrent's flow, 
When it pours from the crag 

On the valley below 



THE CAVALRY CHARGE. 



" Charge!" thunders the leader. 

Like shaft from the bow 
Each mad horse is hurled 

On the wavering foe. 
A thousand bright sabres 

Are gleaming in air ; 
A thousand dark horses 

Are dashed on the square. 

Resistless and reckless 

Of aught may betide, 
Like demons, not mortals, 

The wild troopers ride. 
Cut right ! and cut left I 

For the parry who needs ? 
The bayonets shiver 

Like wind-shattered reeds ! 

Yain — vain the red volley 

That bursts from the square— 
The random-shot bullets 

Are waisted in air. 
Triumphant, remorseless, 

Unerring as death, — 
No sabre that's stainless 

Returns to its sheath. 

The wounds that are dealt 

By that murderous steel 
Will never yield case 

For the surgeons to heal. 
Hurrah ! they are broken — 

Hurrah I boys, they fly — 
None linger save those 

Who but linger to die. 



A STBANGE BATTLE SCENE. 



81 



Rein up your hot horses, 

And call in your men ; 
The trumpet sounds " Rally 

To color" again. 
Some saddles are empty, 

Some comrades are slain, 
And some noble horses 

Lie stark on the plain ; 
But war's a chance game, boys, 

And weeping is vain. 



A STRANGE BATTLE SCENE. 

At the battle of Stone River, while the men were lying 
behind a crest, waiting, a brace of frantic wild turkeys, so 
paralyzed with fright that they were incapable of flying, ran 
betweeen the lines, and endeavored to hide among the men. 
But the frenzy among the turkeys was not so touching as the 
exquisite fright of the birds and rabbits. When the roar of 
battle rushed through the cedar thickets, flocks of little birds 
fluttered and circled above the field in a state of utter bewil- 
derment, and scores of rabbits fled for protection to the men 
lying down in the line on the left, nestling under their coats, 
and creeping under their legs in a state of utter distraction. 
They hopped over the field like toads, and as perfectly tamed 
by fright as household pets. Many officers witnessed it, 
remarking it as one of the most curious spectacles ever seen 
upon a battle-field. 

6 



82 



THE PERILS OF A SCOUT. 



THE PEEILS OF A SCOUT. 

Among the scouts sent out during the battles on the 
Potomac, was Die B., of Ohio. He had seen some perilous 
and thrilling adventures among the rebels, which cannot be 
better told than in his own words: — 

" I was out scouting, with three or four others, when we 
got separated, and on turning a bend in the road, I suddenly 
came upon a party of rebel cavalry. They commanded me 
to halt. 1 replied by firing my revolver at the foremost, and 
then putting spurs to my horse, galloped away ; but the 
rebels were not disposed, so easily, to lose their prey, and 
they followed, all of us going at a break-neck pace, and they 
firing upon me as they could get near enough. Presently I 
perceived a pathway in the woods, that laid off from the 
main road. Into this path I turned my horse, as I thought 
the trees would afford me a better chance tc escape them and 
their bullets. My horse was fleet and used to brush, and I 
gained on tnem a little. I began to think my chance was 
tolerable, when I came to a large tree that had blown down 
directly across my path, and when I attempted to leap it, my 
horse stumbled and fell, throwing me off, and before I could 
remount the rebels were upon me. 

" Surrender I" shouted a sergeant, " surrender, you d — d 
blue-bellied Yankee, or 111 blow your heart out P 

And he pointed his revolver at me, which motion was fol 
lowed by the rest of the crowd. 

" See here, old covy," said I, " put up your pop-gun, and 
take me prisoner if you like ; but don't murder a fellow in 
that barbarous manner." 

Of course I was a prisoner, and thought it was the better 
part of valor to fall in and trust to chance and strategy tc 



JL 



THE PERILS OF A SCOUT. 



83 



get me out. So I was soon in line, and toted up to the rebel 
camp, and brought before the notorious Stonewall. The 
general eyed me about one minute, and then said : 

" Well, sir, they tell me you are a Yankee spy." 

Whew ! thought I, this is more than I bargained for ; but 
I was determined to put a jolly face on the matter, and I said: 

"Yes, general, that's what they say; but you rebels are 
such blamed liars, there's no knowing when to believe what 
they say. I thought the Yankees could outlie any other 
nation, but hang me if you fellows can't beat us." 

"Ah," said the general, " you don't seem to have a very 
exalted opinion of your brethren." 

" Why should I have ?" said I. " I've lost and suffered a 
good deal in that same Yankee nation." 

11 That's strange," said the general. "Don't the Union offi- 
cers treat their soldiers well?" 

" They're like all other officers," said I, " good and bad 
among them ; but that's not where the shoe pinches. To 
make a long story short, although I live in Virginia, I was 
favorably disposed to the Union cause, but the beggarly Lin- 
colnites wouldn't believe it ; so they fed their troops on my 
granary and cupboard till I was about ruined, and when I 
wanted pay they told me I was a fool, and said if I was a 
good Union man, I ought to be glad to aid the government. 
One day one of the officers told me if I would enlist they 
would think better of me, and instead of destroying my pro- 
perty, they would protect it. So the upshot of it was, as my 
loyalty was doubted, 1 was compelled to enlist to save my 
property." 

" That's a plausible story," said the general, " but not a 
very probable one. Why didn't you come into our lines at 
once if you wanted protection ?" 



84 



THE PERILS OF A SCOUT. 



" That's just what I was coming at," said I. " I was sent 
out with a scouting party, and so I kept on scouting till I 
got within your lines and was taken by your cavalry." 

" Take care, young man," said the general, sternly ; "1 
understand you attempted to escape." 

This was a poser ; but as I had got under way, I thought 
I must try and make the ripple. I felt tolerable streaked 
about the result, too, but I said, earnestly : 

" Of course I did. "Who wouldn't, with half a dozen 
horses and bullets after him ? I hadn't time to say surren- 
der, and besides the officer cursed me. I don't like to be 
cursed, it's against my principles; and then I was so mighty 
mad to see such beastly cowards, that I half made up my 
mind to get away from both sides, and go to Canada." 

The general looked at me and then at his staff, and they 
all smiled, while I looked as sober as a deacon. I had heard 
that the general was a pious old fellow, and I thought this 
would tickle him. 

"Are you willing," said he, " to take the oath of allegiance 
to the Southern Confederacy, and fight in our cause ?" 

" To be sure," said I ; "I told you before that I had been 
trying to get into your lines. But I don't want to fight for 
you if I am not protected in my rights. I want my property 
respected." 

" Where do you live ?" asked he. 

"At Philippi," said I, " and I've a nice property up there, 
and I want it to be taken care of." 

"Well," said the general, "we're going up that way 
shortly, and, whether you go with us or not, we will protect 
your property. In the meantime I will think of your offer, 
but for the present, as the evidence is against you, you will 
be placed under guard, for you Yankees are too slippery to 



THE PERILS OF A SCOUT. 



85 



be trusted with, too much liberty. Events show that you 
don't know how to use it." 

After this I was kept under guard, and was treated, per- 
haps, as well as they were, and nothing to brag of at that 
The next day there was a great battle. There was much 
commotion in the rebel camp ; and, for fear that I should ba 
recaptured, a guard of two was detailed to take me far back 
to the rear. We could distinctly hear the thundering of the 
cannon, and we knew that a great battle was commenced. I 
overheard the guard chuckling at the idea that they were 
exempt. This put a flea in my ear. I knew they were 
cowards, and I determined to manage them accordingly. My 
canteen had not been taken from me, and, as luck would have 
it, was half full of tolerable "rot-gut." I also had in my 
pocket a large powder of morphine, which the surgeon had 
given me a few days before, to take occasionally ; this I 
slipped into the canteen. After this was accomplished, I 
appeared to take long swigs at the canteen. At last the bait 
took ; the boys got a smell at the whiskey, and one of them, 
turning to me, said : 

" Look here, Yankee, that whiskey smells mighty good. 
Let us help you drink it, or you'll be so drunk, soon, that 
we shall have to carry you." 

" All right boys," said I, " help yourselves." 

They did help themselves. The beggarly rebels soon 
finished the whiskey, morphine and all. 

" It tastes mighty bitter," said one. " What's in it ?" 

" Quinine," said I. " I always put quinine in my whiskey 
this time o' year." 

This satisfied them, and I soon had the satisfaction of see- 
ing my guard tolerably drunk, — too drunk to walk, and so 
they tumbled down, and they did not get up again soon. 



b6 



THE PERILS OF A SCOUT. 



Finding they were getting pretty stupid and sleepy, I shcok 
them and said : 

" See here, guard, this is a shame. How do you expect to 
guard me, drunk as you are ?" 

"Yes, guard," muttered one. "Your — turn now — you 

guard us. Don't leave — or — by , I'll shoot you when 

— wake up." 

" But hold on," said I, " how do you expect me to guard 
you when I don't know the password ?" 

By vigorous strokes and punches, I so far routed him that 
he muttered : " Eattlesnake !" 

I had no doubt but this was the magical a open sesame" 
that was to give me my liberty. In five miuutes the men 
were sound asleep. The place where we were was a deep 
gulley in the woods, and about a mile distant was the rebel 
camp. My purpose was soon fixed. I swapped clothes with 
one, which was considerable trouble, as he was as flimsy as a 
rag ; but I succeeded at last in making the exchange, and had 
the satisfaction of seeing the drunken rebel nicely buttoned 
up in Yankee regimentals. Taking his arms I hurried away. 
"When I got out through the woods I came into a road, ai\d 
had no sooner done so, than I saw a squad of rebel soldiers, 

" Halt I" was the word, which I responded to with soldierlj 
precision. 

" What are you doing here ?" said the lieutenant com- 
manding. 

I told him that two of us were guarding a prisoner, and 
that my comrade and the prisoner were both so dead drunk, 
I could do nothing with them. 

"That's a h — 1 of a story," replied the lieutenant, "I 

believe you're some d d Yankee spy. I've a mind to clip 

your head off, on suspicion." And he raised his sword. 



THE PERILS OF A SCOUT. 



87 



( Let him prove what lie says by showing us the men," 
suggested one of the squad. 

At this they all laughed, supposing I was bluffed. But 
when I readily assented to this, they followed me, cautiously, 
however, as I suppose they feared I was leading them into 
ambush. When the lieutenant saw the men — one in butter- 
nut and one in Yankee blue — as I had represented, he gave 
each a hearty kick and said : 

" Well, this is a h — 1 of a mess. What are you going to 
do about it ?" 

" Going to hunt a wagon and have them carried on," 
said I. 

This was satisfactory, and we parted. Finding it would 
not do to take the road I skulked around in the woods all 
day. When night came I took, as I supposed, a route that 
would lead me to the Union camp. All night I climbed 
about over the hills ; twice I was hailed by rebel pickets, but 
rattlesnake carried me safely by. Just at daylight I disco- 
vered a camp. I could see the tents twinkling through the 
strip of woods before me, and I felt certain it was the Federal 
camp. 

When I had got about half way through the piece of 
woods, I saw something that completely took all the exulta- 
tion of my delivery out of me. Well, I've been in many a 
perilous position. I have had bayonets, bullets and bowies 
rummaging round in the region of my loyal bosom; but 
never, in all my life, was I so astonished and chagrined — so 
utterly taken down. There, in the bottom of a broad, deep 
ravine, not ten steps from me, lay the two drunken guards I 
Lord ! this was a pretty fix, to be sure. I had accomplished 
a feat equal to the hero of Mother Goose, who went, 



88 THE PERILS OF A SCOUT. 

11 Fourteen miles in fifteen days, 
And never looked behind him." 

One of the guard was sitting up, and endeavoring to rouse 
the supposed prisoner ; for he was still too much stupefied to 
recognize the cheat. Perceiving me, he sung out : 

" Say, Bill, this d — d Yankee's too drunk to wake up 
What's to be done with him ? Have we been here all night ? 
Lord, what'll the old general say ? Come over here." 

''No," said I, feigning his comrade's voice. "We've been 
drunk here all night, and I'm going to report before he 
wakes up, or they'll have us in the guard house. You stay 
and watch him, while I go." 

"No, let's wake the devilish lubber up, and take him 
where we're going to. But blame me if I know where that 
is. Don't go." 

" But I will," said I ; and, hurrying away, I was soon out 
oi sight. This day I hid myself in a hollow tree, and, when 
night came, I took a good look at the stars, and, getting my 
bearings, started again for the Union camp. I several times 
came upon the rebel pickets, but the " Eattlesnake" snaked 
me along without any trouble ; all but one, the last one I 
came to. He was a sprightly little fellow, and appeared to 
be determined that I should go with him to headquarters. 
I offered every excuse I could think of, but it was of no 
avail, so I at last agreed to go, and we started. I went with 
him about half a mile, and during this time, I engaged him 
in conversation about the affairs of the war, playing the rebel, 
of course, and talking in a jolly way, till, rinding him a little 
unguarded, I sprang upon him and took him down, and 
before he knew what was the matter he was unarmed. 

" Now, you beggarly whelp," said I, as I snatched his gun 
and sprang away from him, "about face, and put, or I'll 
sho^- vou in a minute." 



THE PERILS OF A SCOUT. 



89 



The fellow was scared, sure, and lost no time in getting 
crat of my sight. It was now beginning to grow light, and I 
found myself on the banks of the Potomac, with the Federal 
camp far in the distance. As there was no other mode of 
conveyance, I was forced to swim the river, which was no 
easy job, considering I had two muskets to carry. However, 
I got safely over, and was just climbing the bank, when a 
musket was leveled at me, and a clear voice rung out : 

" Stand ! who goes there ?" 

This I knew was a Union picket ; so I told him I had been 
taken prisoner, and had escaped ; had been two days with- 
out eating ; and I wanted him to let me go, or take me at 
once into camp, where I could get something to eat, and some 
dry clothes. I had no doubt but he believed this, and would 
immediately comply ; but the answer was an ominous click 
of the trigger. 

" I believe you're a real butternut rebel," said the picket, 
" and I've a notion to give you a pop, any how." 
"But I ain't," said I. 

" What are you doing with them butternut regimentals on 
then, and them two muskets ?" said he. 

I saw my fix, and hungering, dripping and shivering as I 
was, I stood there before that grinning musket till I had told 
the whole story. Finally, upon my giving him the names of 
our colonel and captain, and mentioning several other matters 
familiar to him, he was satisfied; for "he belonged to the same 
regiment that I did. 



90 ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTH RHODE ISLAND. 



"MOST THAR." 

During the march of McClellan's army up the Peninsula, 
from Yorktown, a tall Vermont soldier got separated from his 
regiment, and was trudging along through the mud, endeavor- 
ing to overtake it. Finally, coming to a crossing, he was 
puzzled as to which road he should take ; but on seeing one 
of the "natives," his countenance lighted up at the prospect 
of obtaining the desired information, and he inquired, 
" Where does this road lead to ?" " To hell I" was the surly 
answer of the " native." " Well," drawled the Yermonter, 
"judging by the lay of the land, and the appearance of the 
inhabitants, I kalkerlate I'm most thar." 



THE ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTH RHODE ISLAND. 

One of the Rhode Island boys out on picket near York- 
town, Ya. ; found himself in close proximity to one of the 
enemy's pickets, and after exchanging a few shots without 
availing any thing, they mutually agreed to cease and go to 
dinner. " What regiment do you belong to ?" asked our 
inquisitive Yankee friend of his neighbor. " The seventeenth 
Georgia," was the response; "and what regiment do you 
belong to ?" asked Secesh. " The one hundred and fifth Rhode 
Island," answered our Yankee friend. Secesh gave a long , 
low whistle, and — evaporated. 



GEN. BUTLER'S RECRUITING OPERATIONS. 91 



GENERAL BUTLER'S ACCOUNT OF HIS RECRUIT- 
ING OPERATIONS IN LOUISIANA. 

Extracted from his testimony before the Committee 
on the Conduct of the War. 

"I issued an order that any Confederate soldier who 
chose to desert and leave the rebel army, might come into 
New Orleans and register his name. 

" There had come into New Orleans, up to this time, some- 
thing over six thousand men, who had been soldiers in the 
rebel army, and registered themselves as paroled prisoners; 
so that I had in New Orleans nearly twice as many men who 
had been soldiers in the Confederate army as I had of Union 
soldiers. 

" I had asked for leave, which had been granted, to recruit 
my regiments. I recruited in Louisiana all my old regiments 
up to the full standard ; raised two new white regiments, and 
four companies of cavalry — all of men living in Louisiana. 
They fought bravely at Baton Rouge. Out of four hundred 
and sixty men of the fourteenth Maine, who were in line, two 
hundred of them were recruits from Louisiana. They, of 
course, were healthy men, not having suffered the troubles 
either of Camp Parapet or Yicksburg. 

" I ordered eight dollars a month to be paid out of the pro- 
vost fund to the widows and mothers of quite a number of 
Louisiana soldiers that were killed under our flag, because I 
knew it would take a long, time to get it from Washington, 
and I wanted to encourage others to enlist. The provost 
fund was made up of fines and forfeitures, sales of confiscated 
property, and two dollars charged for each pass, etc. 

a I asked for liberty to raise five thousand native Louisiani- 
ans, and raised nearly that number, including recruits in the 



92 GEN". BUTLER & RECRUITING OPERATIONS. 



old regiments. White recruiting began then to fall off, be- 
cause of the high wages beginning to be paid for white labor 
on the plantations, in order to save the sugar crop where the 
negroes had left. 

" I had written to Washington for reinforcements, but they 
replied that they could not give me any, though they wrote 
that I must hold New Orleans at l11 hazards. I determined 
to do that, if for no other reason, because the rebels had 
offered a reward for my head, and it would have been rather 
inconvenient to me to have lost it. 

"Upon examining the records, I found that Governor 
Moore, of Louisiana, had raised a regiment of free colored 
people, and organized and officered it; and I found one of 
his commissions. I sent for a colored man, as an officer of 
that regiment, and got some fifteen or sixteen of the officers 
together — black, and mulatto, light and dark colored — and 
asked them what they meant by being organized under the 
Eebels. 

"They said they had been ordered out, and could not 
refuse ; but that the Rebels had never trusted them with 
arms. They had been drilled in company drill. I asked 
them if that organization could be resuscitated, provided they 
were supplied with arms. They said that it could. Very 
well, I said, then I will resuscitate that regiment of Louisiana 
militia. 

" I, therefore, issued an order, stating the precedent fur- 
nished by Governor Moore, and in a week from that time. I 
had in that regiment a thousand men, reasonably drilled, and 
well-disciplined ; better disciplined than any other regiment 
I had there, because the blacks had always been t&vight to do 
as they were told. It was composed altogether of freemen ; 
made free uDder some law. 



GEN. BUTLER'S RECRUITING OPERATIONS. 93 



" There was a very large French and English population 
in Louisiana. I ascertained that neither French nor English 
law permitted French or English subjects to hold slaves in a 
foreign country. According to the French law, any French 
citizen holding slaves in a foreign country, forfeits his citizen- 
ship. According to the British law, any Englishman holding 
slaves in a foreign country, forfeits one hundred pounds. 

"I, thereupon, issued an order, that every person should 
register himself; the loyal as loyal; French subjects as 
French subjects ; English subjects, as English subjects, etc., 
under their own hands, so that there could be no mistake in 
the books of the Provost Marshal. That was accordingly done. 

" I then said to those who claimed to be French and English 
subjects ; ' According to the law of the country to which you 
claim, by this register, to owe allegiance, all the negroes 
claimed by you as slaves are free, and being free, I may enlist 
as many of them as I please.' And I accordingly enlisted one 
regiment and part of another, from men in that condition. 

" We had a great many difficulties about it. But the 

English consul came fairly up to the mark, and decided that 

the negroes claimed as slaves by those who had registered 

themselves as British subjects, were free ; so that I nevei 

enlisted a slave. . Indeed, it was a general order, that no 

slave should be enlisted. 

******** 

" I sent an expedition under General Weitzel to Donaldson- 
ville, and swept down through that country to Berwick Bay ; 
drove out the enemy, who were there in considerable force, 
and brought the whole of that region, from one end to the 
(rther, within the Union lines. 

******** 

" In taking possession of that district, which had Deretofore 



94 



ZAGONYl'S CHARGE. 



been in possession of the enemy, we obtained possession of 
a region of country containing more sugar plantations, and 
more slaves, than any other portion of Louisiana. Some fif- 
teen thousand, perhaps twenty thousand slaves came, by that 
one expedition, under our control ; and, as Congress had 
passed a law declaring that all slaves held by rebels, in re- 
gions that afterward should come into our possession, should 
be free, all those slaves became free. 

"I enlisted a third regiment, and two batteries of heavy 
artillery, from among those negroes thus made free. Two of 
these colored regiments were employed in guarding the Ope 
lousas railroad, running from Algiers to Berwick Bay, and 
when I left there they were still thus employed. 

" I turned over to my successors, of soldiers, seventeen 
thousand eight hundred, including the black regiments, 
though I had but thirteen thousand seven hundred to start on." 



ZAGONYl'S CHARGE. 

Bold captain of the body-guard, 

I'll troll a stave to thee ! 
My voice is somewhat harsh and hard, 

And rough my minstrelsy. 
I've cheered until my throat is sore 
For how our boys at Beaufort bore, 

Yet here's a cheer for thee ! 

I hear thy jingling spurs and reins, 

Thy sabre at thy knee ; 
The blood runs lighter through my veins, 




A PRACTICAL JOKE ON A TEAMSTER. 



95 



As I before rne see 
Thy hundred men, with thrusts and blows, 
Ride down a thousand stubborn foes, 

The foremost led by thee. 

With pistol snap, and rifle crack — 
Mere salvos fired to honor thee — 

Ye plunge, and stamp, and shoot, and hack, 
The way your swords made free ; 

Then back again, the path is wide 

This time. Ye gods ! it was a ride, 
The ride they took with thee ! 

No guardsman of the whole command, 

Halts, quails, or turns to flee ; 
With bloody spur and steady hand, 

They gallop where they see 
Thy leading plume stream out ahead, 
O'er flying, wounded, dying, dead — 

They can but follow thee. 

So, captain of the body-guard, 

I pledge a health to thee ! 
I hope to see thy shoulders starred, 

My Paladin ; and we 
Shall laugh at fortune in the fray, 
Whene'er you lead your well-known way 

To death or victory. 



A PRACTICAL JOKE ON A TEAMSTER. 

Our boys are furious for practical jokes, and are con- 
stantly on the watch for subjects. One was recently found 



96 



A PRACTICAL JOKE ON A TEAMSTER. 



in the person of a new teamster, who had the charge of six 
large shaggy mules. John was the proprietor of two bottles 
of old Bourbon — a contraband in camp — which a wag disco- 
vered, and resolved to possess. Being aware that the driver'9 
presence was an impediment to the theft, he hit upon the 
following plan to get rid of him : 

Approaching the driver, who was busy currying hit 
mules, he accosted him with — "I say, old fellow, what are 
you doing there?" 

" Can't you see ?" replied John, gruffly. 

" Certainly," responded wag, " but that is not your busi- 
ness. It is after tattoo, and there is a fellow hired here, by 
the general, who curries all the mules and horses brought 
in after tattoo." 

The mule driver bit at once, and desired to know where 
the hair-dresser kept himself. "Whereupon he was directed 
to Greneral Nelson's tent, with the assurance that there was 
where the fellow "hung outV 

"You can't mistake the man," said wag; "he is a large 
fellow, and puts on a thundering sight of airs for a man in 
his business. He will probably refuse to do it, and tell you 
to go to the devil ; but don't mind that, he has been drink- 
ing to-day. Make him come out sure." 

John posted off, and entering the tent where our Napoleon 
of the 4th division sat in deep reverie, probably considering 
the most expeditions method of expelling the rebel Buck- 
ner from his native State, slapped him on the back with 
force sufficient to annihilate a man of ordinary size. Spring- 
ing to his feet, the general accosted his uninvited guest 
with — " Well, sir, who are you, and what the devil do yov 
want ?" 

" Old hoss, I've got a job for you now ; six mules to h< 



ENLISTING NEGROES. 



97 



curried, and right off, too," said the captain o mules, nothing 
daunted at the flashing eye of the general. 

" Do you know whom you are addressing, sir ?" asked the 
indignant commander. 

"Yes," said John, elevating his voice to a pitch which 
rendered the words audible a square off ; " you are the fel- 
low hired by Uncle Sam to clean mules, and I won't have 
any foolishness. Clean them mules and I'll give you a drink 
of busthead." 

"You infernal villain!" exclaimed the general, now per- 
fectly furious, "I am General Nelson, commander of this 
division !" 

John placed the thumb of his right hand against his nose, 
and extending his fingers, waved them slowly, in a manner 
supposed by some to be indicative of great wisdom. The 
general's sword leaped from its scabbard and John from the 
tent just in time to save his head. 

Our boys drank the "big mule driver's" health in the 
Bourbon, the story soon got out, and became the popular 
joke of the season. 



ENLISTING- NEGKOES. 

The following matter of fact occurred at Nashville, as 
stated by the Nashville, Union: — 

A slaveholder from the country approached an old ac- 
quaintance, also a slaveholder, residing in the city, and said : 
" I have several negro men lurking about here, somewhere. 
I wish you would look out for them, and when you find them 
do with them as if they were your own." 
7 



98 



CASH PAYMENTS. 



" Certainly 1 will," replied his friend. 
A few days after the parties met again, and the planter 
asked, "Have yon found my slaves ?" 
" I have." 

" And where are they ?" 

" Well, yon told me to do with them as if they were my 
own, and as I made my men enlist in the Union army, I did 
the same with yours." 

The astounded planter absquatulated. 



CASH PAYMENTS. 

"Slick" was known as a case in Company I, and was 
familiarly called by the soubriquet in question, when the army 
was at Murfreeboro.' 

Slick was passing General Johnson's headquarters one 
day, and without any ceremony fired his gun almost in the 
face of the general himself. 

"What?" says the general; "do you not know the 
penalty of firing your gun without orders to do so '?" 

" Why, no, sir !" says Slick, very innocently. 

" Well," replied the general, " I will tell you. It is the 
loss of a month's pay." 

" You don't say so !" says Slick, and very coolly puts his 
hand in his pocket, and draws therefrom an old greasy wallet, 
opens it and offers the general thirteen dollars in greenbacks, 
saying, a Well, general, I guess I am- able to stand the pres 
sure !" 

It is needless to say that the general discontinued the 
conversation immediately. Slick was not fined. 



BATTLE-HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC. . 99 



UATTLE-HYMN OF THE EEPTJBLIO. 

BY MRS. JTJLTA WARD HOWE. 

eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord ; 
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are 
stored ; 

He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword : 

His truth is marching on. 

1 have seen him in the watchfires of a hundred circling camps ; 
They have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps ; 
I have read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring 
lamps : 

His day is marching on. 

I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel : 
"As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall 
deal ; 

Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel, 

Since God is marching on. 1 ' 

He h.ith sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat ; 
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat ; 
Oh I be swift, my soul, to answer him ! be jubilant, my feet ! 

Our God is marching on. 

Tn the beaaty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, 
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me ; 
4s He die<\ to make mer holy, let us die to make men free, 

While God is marching on. 



1 00 AN ADVENTURE OF GENERAL HOWARD. 



AN ADVENTURE OF GENEEAL HOWAKD. 

An unrecorded incident of the midnight fight between 
Hooker's and Longstreet's forces, in Lookout Valley, on the 
night of the 30th of October, 1863, is related by C. D. 
Brigham, correspondent of the New York Tribune, as fol- 
lows : — 

" A short time subsequent to this magnificent charge on 
the enemy in their breastworks, by General Geary's brigade, 
General Howard, taking with him a small escort of calvary, 
started for that part of the field where General Geary waa 
supposed to be. He had not gone far when he came up 
with a body of infantry. ' What cavalry is that V was the 
hail. 'All right,' responded General Howard, at the same 
time calling out, 1 What men are these ?' ' Longstreet's,' was 
the reply. 'All right — come here,' said General Howard. 
The men approached. ' Have we whipped those fellows ?' 
asked the general, in a manner to keep up the deception. 

4 No, d n them, they were too much for us, and drove 

us from our rifle-pits, like devils. We're whipped ourselves.' 
By this time the rebels had gathered nearer. 'Lay down 
your arms !' demanded General H. ; in a stern voice. The 
men surrendered. 

"Taking his prisoners in charge, General H. proceeded on 
his way. He had not gone far, before another party of rebel 
infantry called out, 'What cavalry is that?' 'All right,' was 
the response, again, of General Howard, as he proceeded. 
On approaching the position occupied by Geary, that officer 
had observed the advancing horsemen and infantry, as he 
supposed the prisoners to be, and taking them to be rebels, 
be had ordered his guns to be loaded with canister, and in a 
moment more would have given the intrepid Howard and 
little force the benefit of it. 



THE ASSAULT. 



101 



"But the general, who had successfully deceived the en 
emy, found a way to make himself known to his friends, and 
so escaped a reception of that kind." 



THE ASSAULT. 

The sun of Saturday rose bright and clear, and more than 
one asked if it were an omen for us, or for the foe. The 
morning passed as did the day before ; but about noon, word 
came up that far down on our right the rebels had attempted 
to cut their way out. They were driven back, but the fight 
was bloody, and it was said we had lost five hundred men. 
We were warned to be watchful — it was thought they might 
re-attempt it near us. I have said we were in front of a large 
glen or ravine ; on our right were numerous regiments, 
making a chain which stretched to the river. On our left 
was the second Iowa. This was all that I had seen of our 
position, and, consequently, is all that I shall describe now, 
inasmuch as I am giving it to you precisely as it appeared to 
me. Soon a mounted orderly rode by, who told us that a 
large body of rebels were moving up opposite us. Our men 
were called together, and stood near their stacked arms. A 
little while and General Smith and his staff came up — they 
passed by in front of us, but said nothing. At the same time 
the sharpshooters along the glen were unusually active, and 
there were repeated shots by them. We thought they saw 
the rebels mustering behind the breastworks. Every thing 
seemed to indicate a sally from the rebels, and that we were 
to drive them back as they had been driven back in the 
morning. The men took their arms, officers loosened their 



102 



THE ASSAULT. 



pistol holsters. I hooked up my cavalry sabre, unbuttoned 
my great coat so that I could quickly throw it off, and took 
my place beside the lieutenant-colonel with whom I was to 
act. Then there came a painful, unpleasant pause; we heard 
nothing — saw nothing — yet knew that something. was com- 
ing ; what that something was no one could tell. A messen- 
ger came from the general — we were to move to the left and 
support the second Iowa. We supposed the rebels were 
crossing a little higher up, and that the gap between us and 
the second was to be closed. The colonel gave the order 
"left face," " forward march," and the regiment passed along 
through the thick trees in a column of two abreast. But the 
second were not where they had been in the morning ; we 
marched on, but did not come to them. In a few moment? 
we passed their camp fires — a few more, and we emerged on 
an open field. 

At a glance, the real object of the movement was appa 
rent. It came upon us in an instant, like the lifting of a 
curtain. The fourteenth were hurrying down through the 
field. The second, in a long line, were struggling up the 
opposite hill, where two glens met and formed a ridge. It 
was high and steep, slippery with mud and melted snow. 
At the top, the breastworks of the rebels flashed and smoked, 
whilst to tne right and left, up either glen, cannon were thun- 
dering. The attempt seemed desperate. Down through the 
field we went, and began to climb the hill. At the very foot 
I found we were in the line of fire. Eifle balls hissed over 
us, and bleeding men lay upon the ground, or were dragging 
themselves down the hill. From the foot to the breastworks 
the second Iowa left a long line of dead and wounded upon 
the ground. The sight of these was the most appalling part 
of the scene, and, for a moment, completely diverted my 



THE ASSAULT. 



103 



attention from the firing. A third of the way up we came 
under fire of the batteries. The shot, and more especially 
the shell, came with the rushing, clashing of a locomotive on 
a railroad. You heard the boom of the cannon up the ravine 
— then the sound of the shell — and then felt it rushing at you. 
At the top of the hill the firearms sounded like bundles of 
immense powder crackers. They would go r-r-r-r-rap ; then 
came the scattered shots, rap, rap — rap-rap, rap ; then some 
more fired together, rrrrrrap. This resemblance was so strik- 
ing that it impressed me at the moment. 

The bursting of the shells produced much less effect — 
apparent effect, I mean — than I anticipated. Their explo- 
sion, too, was much like a large powder cracker thrown in 
the air. There was a loud bang — fragments flew about, and 
all was over. It was so quickly done, that you had no time 
to anticipate or think — you were killed or you were safe, 
and it was over. But the most dispiriting thing was that we 
saw no enemy. The batteries were out of sight, and at the 
breastworks nothing could be seen but fire and smoke. It 
seemed as though we were attacking some invisible power, 
and that it was a simple question of time whether we could 
climb that slippery steep before we were all shot or not. 
But suddenly the firing at the summit ceased. The second 
Iowa had charged the works, and driven out the regiments 
which held them. Then came the fire, of the second upon 
our flying foes, and then loud shouts along the line, " Hur- 
rah, hurrah, the second are in — hurry up, boys, and support 
them — close up — forward — forward." We reached the top 
and scrambled over the breastwork. I saw a second hill 
rising gradually before us, and on the top of it a second 
breastwork — between us and it about four hundred yards of 
broken ground. A second fire opened upon us from these 



104 



THE ASSAULT. 



inner works. We were ordered back, and, recrossing thoso 
we Lad taken, lay down upon the outer side of the em- 
bankment. 

The breastwork that had sheltered the enemy now shel- 
tered us. It was about six feet high on our side, and the 
men laid close against it. Occasionally a hat was pushed uj 
above it, and then a rifle ball would come whistling oyer us 
from the second intrenchment. The batteries also continued 
to fire, but the shot passed lower down the hill, and did little 
execution. Having no specific duty to discharge, I turned, 
as soon as our troops reached the breastworks, and gave my 
aid to the wounded. 

A singular fact for which I could not account was, that 
those near the foot of the hill were struck in the legs ; higher 
up the shots had gone through the body, and near the breast- 
works through the head. Indeed, at the top of the hill I 
noticed no wounded ; all who lay upon the ground there were 
dead. A little house in the field was used as a hospital. I 
tore my handkerchief into strips, and tied them round the 
wounds which were bleeding badly, and made the men hold 
snow upon them. I then took a poor fellow in my arms to 
carry to the little house. " Throw down your gun," I said, 
" you are too weak to carry it." "No, no," he replied, "I will 
hold on to it as long as I am alive." The house happened to 
be in the exact line* of one of the batteries, and as we ap- 
proached it, the shot flew over our path. Fortunately, the 
house was below the range, but one came so low as to knock 
off a shingle from the gable end. For a few minutes we 
thought they were firing on the wounded. We had no red 
flag to display ; but I found a man with a red handkerchief, 
and tied it to a stick, and sent him on the roof with it. 
Within the house there were but three surgeons at this time. 



THE ASSAULT. 



105 



One of them asked me to take his horse and ride for the 
instruments, ambulances, and assistants ; for no preparations 
had been made. It was then I passed Major Chipman car- 
ried by his soldiers. 

When I returned, the ambulances were busy at their 
work; numerous couples of soldiers were supporting off 
wounded friends, and occasionally came four, carrying one in 
a blanket. The wounded men generally showed the greatest 
heroism. They hardly ever alluded to themselves, but 
shouted to the artillery that we met to hurry forward, and 
told stragglers that we had carried the day. One poor boy 
carried in the arms of two soldiers, had his foot knocked off 
by a shell ; it dangled horribly from his limb by a piece of 
skin, and the bleeding stump was uncovered. I stopped to 
tell the men to tie his stocking round the limb, and to put 
snow upon the wound. "Never mind the foot, captain," said 
he, " we drove the rebels out, and have got their trench, that's 
the most I care about." Yet I confess the sights and sounds 
were not as distressing as I anticipated. The small round 
bullet holes, though they might be mortal, looked no larger 
than a surgeon's lancet might have made. Only once did I 
hear distressing groans. A poor wretch, in an ambulance, 
shrieked whenever the wheels struck a stump. There was 
no help for it. The road was through the wood, the driver 
could only avoid the trees, and drive on regardless of his 
agony. 

You will, perhaps, ask how I felt in the fight. There was 
nothing upon which I had had so much curiosity as to what 
my feelings would be. Much to my surprise I found myself 
unpleasantly cool. I did not get excited, and felt a great 
want of something to do. I thought if I only had something — 
my o^n company to lead on, or somebody to order, I should 



106 



THE ASSAULT. 



have much less to think about. There seemed such a cer- 
tainty of being hit, that I felt certain I should be, and after 
a few minutes had a vague sort of a wish that it would come, 
if it were coming, and be over with. The alarming effect of 
the bullets and shells was less than I supposed it would be, 
and my strongest sensations of danger were produced by the 
sight of the dead and wounded. The thing I was most afraid 
of was a panic among our men, and when the seventh Illi- 
nois was ordered to fall back down the hill, I so much feared 
that the men might deem it a retreat, that I entirely forgot 
the firing, and walked down in front of them, talking to their 
major, so that any frightened man in the ranks might be re 
assured by our " matter of course" air. Take it altogether, I 
think I felt and acted pretty much as I do in any unusual 
and exciting affair. I know I found myself looking for an 
illustration of the effect of the shells, and wondering if there 
was no greater and grander illustration of the musketry than 
a bunch of powder crackers. I remember that I did little 
things from habit, as usual ; when I threw off my overcoat, 
for example, I took a pipe, which a friend had given me. 
from my pocket, lest it should be lost ; and I remember that I 
once corrected my grammar, when I inadvertently adopted the 
western style of telling the men to lay down, and as I did so, I 
thought that one or two people, at North Moore street, would 
have been very apt to laugh, if they had heard it. Yet for 
all this, I was by no means unconscious of danger. Some 
officers seemed utterly indifferent to it. Thus, in the fight of 
Thursday, Colonel Shaw, of the fourteenth, after ordering hia 
men to lie down, not only remained on horseback, but crossed 
his legs over the pommel of the saddle, sitting sideways to be 
more comfortable. The sharpshooters of bhe enemy concen 
trated their fire on him, he being the only person visible. A a 



THE ASSAULT. 



107 



the bullets thickened about him, the colonel said, indignantly, 
"those rascals are firing at me, I shall have to move," and he 
threw his leg back, and walked his horse down to the other 
end of the line. 

Oar men lay in the trench all night, exposed to the western 
wind, which blew keenly round the summit of the hill — a 
large force of the enemy, within a few yards, able to rush 
upon them at any moment. 

I had gone back just after dark, with the adjutant, who had 
been hurt by the explosion of a shell, and my return with 
him saved me this. When morning came, we went back. 
As we reached the foot of the hill, we were told that a white 
flag had been displayed, and an officer had gone into the fort, 
but that the time was nearly up and the attack was now to 
be renewed. We hurried on, expecting in a few moments to 
be in a second assault. We had nearly reached the trenches, 
when the men sprang from the ditch to the top of the breast- 
work, waving the colors and giving wild hurrahs. The fort 
had surrendered. 

There was a load lifted off my mind, and I stopped to look 
around. The first glance fell on the blue coats scattered 
through the felled trees and stumps. The march of our 
troops up the hill had been somewhat in the form of a broom. 
Until near the top they had been in column, leaving a long, 
narrow line like the handle, and, as they rushed at the breast- 
work, they had spread out like the broom. This ground 
was plainly marked by the dead. Now that my attention 
was given, I was surprised to find how many were strewn 
upon the narrow strip. Here was one close to me ; about 
the width of a class-room beyond was another; a little 
further on two had fallen, side by side. In a little triangle 
I counted eighteen bodies, and many I knew had been carried 



108 



THE ASSAULT. 



off during the night. Still the scene was not so painful as 
the dead-room of the hospital at St. Louis. The attitudes 
were peaceful. The arms were in all but one case thrown 
naturally over the breast, as in sleep ; and no face gave any 
indication of a painful death. I passed on and entered the 
breastwork. It was about the height of a man. On top was 
a large log, and between the log and the earthwork a narrow 
slip. Through this they had fired on us. The log had hid- 
den their heads, so that, while we were in plain view, they 
were to us an invisible foe. Immediately within were six 
more bodies of the second Iowa, and one in simple home- 
spun. He was the only one of the enemy upon the ground. 
The soldiers, gathering around him, looked, as I did myself, 
with some curiosity upon one who had thus met the punish- 
ment of his treason. He had been shot through the back of 
the head while running, and his face expressed only wonder- 
ment and fright. It showed him a country-bred youth, 
illiterate, uncultivated — a contrast to the still intelligent 
faces that lay around him. 

Meanwhile our troops were forming along the hill to take 
possession of the fort. All voices declared that the second 
Iowa should lead. As it moved past the other regiments to 
the head of the column, the men cheered them, and the 
officers uncovered; but they seemed sad and wearied. I 
looked along their line, and found of the officers I knew 
hardly one was there. 

It was a beautiful sight to see regiment after regiment 
mount the second breastwork, and watch them successively 
halt and cheer, and wave their colors as they crossed. I 
pushed on, scrambled over it, and found myself in the midst 
of five hundred of the prisoners. They were strange figures, 
in white blanket or carpet coats, having the same unintelli- 



THE ASSAULT. 



109 



gent faces as the one who had been killed outside. I scared 
at them, and they at me. They looked crestfallen and con- 
fused, but showed little feeling ; and during the day I saw 
but few faces of common soldiers that awakened any pity. 
They, poor fellows, sat sadly looking at the scene. To one 
of them I spoke. He said he had done nothing to bring on 
the war ; he had been for the Union, and had only enlisted a 
month before to avoid being impressed. His family lived, 
or had lived (he did not know where they were now), within 
a mile, and he would give a great, great deal to see them for 
only a minute. " Will your officers let me write to tell them 
I am alive ?" " To be sure they will." " And will we be 
furnished with food ?" " Yes, the same as our own soldiers." 
lx Most of our men expected, if we surrendered uncondition- 
ally, that you would kill us." " You see we have not done 
so." " JSTo, they have treated us very kindly : we have been 
deceived." Such was the tenor of our conversation. I may 
here say that our men behaved admirably ; and I did not 
hear of a single indignity being offered to any of our prison- 
ers. A few sentinels were placed around a regiment of 
prisoners, and, so far as appearances went, half of them might 
have escaped. But the woods around the fort contained 
regiments of our troops, and they knew the attempt would 
be hopeless. "We were assigned the quarters of the fiftieth 
Tennessee, and I slept in what had been the colonel's. It 
was a nice little house of oak blocks, laid up so that the 
wood and bark alternated, giving a very pretty tesselated 
appearance. They had all sorts of comforts, which we had 
never even hoped for at Camp Benton ; and while we sup- 
posed they had been roughing it, found we had been rough- 
ing it ourselves. 

We invited the colonel and some of his officers to spend 



110 



THE ASSAULT. 



the night with us. I confess they behaved with dignity. 
They made no complaints, and submitted with quiet resigna- 
tion to their changed circumstances ; but they were Tennes- 
seans, and though they made no professions in words, 
convinced us that they had been Union men at heart, and 
wished the Union back again. One of us remarked, that if 
those who had been released heretofore had not abused it, 
and violated their pledges and oaths, the prisoners at Fort 
Donaldson would probably be released in the same way. 
The lieutenant-colonel said he wished it could be so ; he 
was confident none of his men would be thus guilty. " But," 
he added, U I don't blame the government for sending us 
north ; I acknowledge that I am a rebel taken in arms, and 
it is fully justified in treating me accordingly." 

It was a novelty indeed, thus spending the evening with 
our late opponents. We made no allusions that could hurt 
their feelings, but talked over the events of the siege until a 
late hour. They told us the surrender was a thunder-clap to 
all. The men, and most of the officers, had not seen how 
completely they were surrounded, and had been made to 
believe that they were successful. The evening before they 
were told this, and in the morning it was announced that 
their generals had run away, and they were prisoners of 
war. 

I now began to look about me and feel a little of the con- 
fusion that follows a battle. My trunk had been left on the 
steamer, and the steamer had moved ; my blankets had been 
left in a hospital tent, and the hospital tent had disappeared ; 
my regiment was fourteen miles off, at Fort Henry ; the bis- 
cuit and coffee on which we had lived were gone, and pro- 
visions had not followed us into the fort. I procured a 
captured horse, and the next morning started at daylight for 



grant's unselfishness. 



Ill 



Port Henry. As 1 passed a regiment in the woods, the com 
missary was dealing out a biscuit and a handfu I of sugar to 
each man for breakfast. He good naturedly said he would 
give me my share. After a long ride, I found my men camped 
in some woods, all well, and bitterly disappointed at not 
having been at Fort Donelson. 



GKAXT'S UNSELFISHNESS 

In the first action in which Grant commanded, his troops 
at first gained a slight advantage over the Confederates. 
They began to plunder the Confederate camp, in spite of all 
that Grant could do to stop them. At last, Grant, who knew 
that Confederate reinforcements were coming up, got some 
of his friends to set fire to the camp so as to stop the plun- 
dering. Then he got his troops together as well as he could, 
and retreated ; but, in the mean time, the Confederate rein- 
forcements came up, attacked Grant, and defeated him. 
There were five colonels under Grant, who had not by any 
means supported him efficiently in his attempts to stop the 
plundering and collect his troops. Mr. Osborn saw Grant a 
day or two afterwards, when he expected to be deprived of 
his command on account of the defeat. He said : 

M Why do you not report these colonels ? They are the 
men to blame for not carrying out your orders." 

"Why," said Grant, " these officers had never before been 
under fire ; they did not know how serious an affair it was ; 
they have had a lesson which they will not forget. I will 
answer for it they will never make the same mistake again. 
I can see by the way they behaved in the subsequent action, 



112 



A CAYALRY CHARGE. 



that they are of the right stuff, and it is better that I should 
lose my command, if that must be, than the country should 
lose the services of five such officers when good men are 
scarce." 

Grant did not lose his command, and three out of the five 
officers subsequently greatly distinguished themselves. 



A CAYALRY CHARGE. 

The charge of Fremont's Body Guard and the Prairie 
Scouts of Major Frank White, upon the rebel garrison in 
Springfield, Missouri, under the leadership of Major Charles 
Zagonyi, is justly regarded as one of the most daring and 
gallant achievements of the war. 

Charles Zagonyi was a Hungarian refugee who, like so 
many of his countrymen, had fled to this country after the 
suppression of the revolution in his native country by the 
iron hand of the Russian Czar. His daring character brought 
the young officer to the notice of the invincible General Bern, 
by whom he was placed in command of a troop of picked 
cavalry for extraordinary service. His story, after that hour, 
up to the date of his capture by the enemy, was one of un- 
paralleled daring. His last act was to charge upon a heavy 
artillery force. Over one half of his men were killed and 
the rest made prisoners, but not until after the enemy had 
suffered terribly. He was then confined in an Austrian dun- 
geon, and finally released, at the end of two years, to go into 
exile in America. 

Fremont drew around him a large number of such refugees 
from European tyranny, and found in them men of great 



A CAVALRY CHARGE. 



113 



value, in all departments of the service. Zagonyi enlisted 
three hundred carefully chosen men, who, as a " Body Guard," 
served as pioneers and scouts in Fremont's advance. The 
exploit at Springfield was only one of many similar services 
for which they were designated by Fremont ; but, the suspen- 
sion of his command in Missouri broke up the Guard, and 
Zagonyi withdrew from the service until his leader should 
again be given a command. 

The Gnard was mounted, and was armed with German 
sabres and revolvers — the first company only having car- 
bines. The horses were all bay in color, and were chosen 
with special reference to speed and endurance. 

The expedition to Springfield was planned, as it afterward 
appeared, upon false information. Instead of Springfield 
being held by a small force, it was in possession of twelve 
hundred infantry and four hundred cavalry. Major Frank 
White had been ordered by General Sigel to make a recon- 
noissance toward Springfield — the Union army then being at 
Camp Haskell, south of the Pomme de Terre river, thirty- 
four miles from Warsaw and fifty-one from Springfield. 
The major had just come in with his dashing " Prairie 
Scouts," one hundred and fifty-four strong, from their gallant 
dash into Lexington ; and the order to strike out for the re- 
connoissance found them jaded from over service. The 
major, however, put out, and was far on his way when, on 
the 24th (of October), he was joined by Zagonyi, who as- 
sumed command of the expedition, by order of Fremont. 
Zagonyi had with him one half of his Guard, provided with 
only one ration. The march to Springfield was to be forced, 
in order that the enemy should be surprised and the place 
secured before rebel reinforcements could reach it. The 
combined Scouts and Guard marched all Thursday (October 



114 



A CAVALRY CHARGE. 



24th) night ; briefly rested Friday morning, then pushed on 
and were before Springfield at three P. m. on the 25th — 
the fifty- one miles having been accomplished in eighteen 
hours. 

Eight miles from Springfield five mounted rebels were 
caught ; a sixth escaped and gave the alarm to the forces in 
the town, whose strength, Zagonyi learned from a Union 
farmer, was fully two thousand strong. Nothing was left 
but a retreat or bold dash. Zagonyi did not hesitate. His 
men responded to his own spirit fully, and were eager for 
the adventure, let it result as it would. Major White was so 
ill from overwork that, at Zagonyi's entreaty, he remained at 
a farm-house for a brief rest. The Union farmer offered to 
pilot the Body-Guard around to the Mount Yernon approach 
on the west — thus hoping to effect a surprise in that direc- 
tion, as the enemy was, doubtless, aligned to receive the 
assault on the Boliver road, on the north. Of this detour 
White knew nothing, and after his rest he pushed on with 
his guard of five men and a lieutenant, to overtake his 
troops. He travelled up to the very outskirts of the town, 
and yet did not come up to his men. Supposing them in 
possession of the place, he kept on and soon found himself 
in a rebel camp — a prisoner. He was immediately sur- 
rounded by a crew of savages, who at once resolved to have 
his life. Captain Wroton, a rebel officer, only saved the 
Federal officer and his men from murder by swearing to pro- 
tect them with his life. The blood-thirsty wretches were 
only kept at bay by the constant presence of Wroton. 

The particulars of the charge are given by Major Por- 
sheimer in his admirable papers on Fremont's Campaign, in 
the Atlantic Month ly : — 



A CAVALRY CHARGE. 



115 



The foe were advised of the intended attack. When 
Major White was brought into their camp, they were pre- 
paring to defend their position. As appears from the con- 
fession of prisoners, they had twenty-two hundred men, of 
whom four hundred were cavalry, the rest being infantry, 
armed with shot guns, American rifles and revolvers. 
Twelve hundred of their foot were posted along the edge of 
the wood upon the crest of the hill. The cavalry were sta- 
tioned upon the extreme left, on top of a spur of the hill, and 
in front of a patch of timber. Sharpshooters were con- 
cealed behind the trees close to the fence alongside the lane, 
and a small number in some underbrush near the foot of the 
hill. Another detachment guarded their train, holding pos- 
session of the county fair ground, which was surrounded by 
a high board fence. 

This position was unassailable by cavalry from the road, 
the only point of attack being down the lane on the right ; 
and the enemy were so disposed as to command this approach 
perfectly. The lane was a blind one, being closed, after 
passing the brook, by fences and ploughed land : it was in 
fact a cul-de-sac. If the infantry should stand, nothing could 
save the rash assailants. There are horsemen sufficient to 
sweep the little band before them as helplessly as the 
withered forest-leaves in the grasp of the autumn winds; 
there are deadly marksmen lying behind the trees upon the 
heights and lurking in the long grass upon the lowlands ; 
while a long line of foot stand upon the summit of the slope 
who, only stepping a few paces back into the forest, may 
defy the boldest riders. Yet, down this narrow lane, leading 
into the very jaws of death, came the three hundred. 

On the prairie, at the edge of the woodland in which he 
knew his wily foe lay hidden, Zagonyi halted his command. 



116 



A CAVALRY CHARGE. 



He spurred along the line. With eager glance he scanned 
each horse and rider. To his officers he gave the simple 
order, " Follow me ! do as I do !" and then, drawing up in 
front of his men, with a voice tremulous and shrill with 
emotion, he spoke : 

" Fellow-soldiers, comrades, brothers ! This is your first 
battle. For our three hundred, the enemy are two thousand. 
If any of you are sick, or tired by the long march, or if any 
think that the number is too great, now is the time to turn 
back." He paused — no one was sick or tired. " We must 
not retreat. Our honor, the honor of our general and our 
country, tell us to go on. I will lead you. We have been 
called holiday soldiers for the pavements of St. Louis ; to- 
day we will show that we are soldiers for the battle. Your 
watchword shall be — ' The Union and Fremont P Draw 
sabre ! By the right flank — quick trot — march I" 

Bright swords flashed in the sunshine, a passionate shout 
burst from every lip, and, with one accord, the trot passing 
into a gallop, the compact column swept on in its deadly 
purpose. Most of them were boys. A few weeks before 
they had left their homes. Those who were cool enough to 
note it say that ruddy cheeks grew pale, and fiery eyes were 
dimmed with tears. Who shall tell what thoughts, what 
visions of peaceful cottages, nestling among the groves of 
Kentucky, or shining upon the banks of the Ohio and Illi- 
nois — what sad recollections of tearful farewells, of tender, 
loving faces, filled their minds during those fearful moments 
of suspense ? No word was spoken. With lips compressed, 
firmly clenching their sword-hilts, with quick tramp of hoofs 
and clang of steel, honor leading and glory awaiting them, 
the yoang soldiers flew forward, each brave rider and each 
straining steed members of one huge creature, eDormous, 
terrible, irresistible. 



A CAVALRY CHARGE. 



117 



" 'Twere worth ten years of peaceful life, 
One glance at that array." 

They pass the fair ground. They are at the corner of the 
]ane where the wood begins. It runs close to the fence on 
their left for a hundred yards, and beyond it they see white 
tents gleaming. They are half way past the forest, when 
sharp and loud, a volley of musketry bursts upon the head of 
the column ; horses stagger, riders reel and fall, but the troop 
presses forward undismayed. The farther corner of the wood 
is reached, and Zagonyi beholds the terrible array. Amazed, 
he involuntarily checks his horse. The rebels are not sur- 
prised. There to his left they stand crowning the height, 
t foot and horse ready to engulph him, if he shall be rash 
enough to go on. The road he is following declines rapidly. 
There is but one thing to do — run the gauntlet, gain the cover 
of the hill, and charge up the steep. These thoughts pass 
quicker than they can be told. He waves his sabre over his 
head, and shouting, "Forward! follow me! quick trot! 
gallop !" he dashes headlong down the stony road. The first 
company, and most of the second follow. From the left a 
thousand muzzles belch forth a hissing flood of bullets ; the 
poor fellows clutch wildly at the air and fall from their 
saddles, and maddened horses throw themselves against the 
fences. Their speed is not for an instant checked ; farther 
down the hill they fly, like wasps driven by the leaden storm. 
Sharp volleys pour out of the underbrush at the left, clearing 
wide gaps through their ranks. They leap the brook, take 
down the fence, and draw up under shelter of the hill. 
Zagonyi looks around him, and to his horror sees that only 
a fourth of his men are with him. He cries, " They do not 
come — we are lost !" and frantically waves his sabre. 

He has not long to wait. The delay of the rest of the 



118 



A CAVALRY CHARGE. 



Guard was not from hesitation. When Captain Foley 
reached the lower corner of the wood and saw the enemy's 
lines, he thought a flank attack might be advantageously 
made. He ordered some men to dismount and take down 
the fence. This was done under a severe fire. Several men 
fell, and he found the woods so dense that it could not be 
penetrated. Looking down the hill, he saw the flash of 
Zagonyi's sabre, and at once gave the order, " Forward !" 
At the same time, Lieutenant Kennedy, a stalwart Kentuck- 
]an, shouted, " Come on, boys ! remember Old Kentucky I" 
and the third company of the Guard — fire on every side oi 
them — from behind trees, from under the fences — with 
thundering strides and loud cheers — poured down the slope 
and rushed to the side of Zagonyi. They have lost seventy 
dead and wounded men, and the carcasses of horses are 
strewn along the lane. Kennedy is wounded in the arm, and 
lies upon the stones, his faithful charger standing motionless 
beside him. Lieutenant Goff received a wound in the thigh ; 
he kept his seat, and cried out, " The devils have hit me, but 
I will give it to them yet !" 

The remnant of the Guard are now in the field under the 
hill, and from the shape of the ground the rebel fire sweeps 
with the roar of a whirlwind over their heads. Here we 
will leave them for a moment, and trace the fortunes of the 
Prairie Scouts. 

When Foley brought his troops to a halt, Captain Fair- 
banks, at the head of the first company of Scouts, was at the 
point where the first volley of musketry had been received. 
The narrow lane was crowded by a dense mass of struggling 
horses, and filled with the tumult of battle. Captain Fair- 
banks says, and he is corroborated by several of his men who 
were near, that at this moment an officer of the Guard rode 



A CAVALRY CHARGE. 



119 



up to him and said, " They are flying ; take your men down 
that lane and cut off their retreat" — pointing to the lane at 
the left. Captain Fairbanks was not able to identify the per 
son who gave this order. It certainly did not come from 
Zagonyi, who was several hundred yards farther on. Captain 
Fairbanks executed the order, followed by the second com 
pany of Prairie Scouts, under Captain Kehoe. When this 
movement was made, Captain Naughton, with the third Irish 
dragoons, had not reached the corner of the lane. He came 
up at a gallop, and was about to follow Fairbanks, when he 
saw a guardsman, who pointed in the direction in which Za- 
gonyi had gone. He took this for an order, and obeyed it. 
When he reached the gap in the fence, made by Foley, not 
seeing any thing of the Guard, he supposed they had passed 
through at that place, and gallantly attempted to follow. 
Thirteen men fell in a few minutes. He was shot in the arm 
and dismounted. Lieutenant Connolly spurred into the under- 
brush, and received two balls through the lungs, and one in 
the left shoulder. The dragoons, at the outset not more than 
fifty strong, were broken ; and, dispirited by the loss of their 
officers, retired. A sergeant rallied a few, and brought them 
up to the gap again, and they were again driven back. Five 
of the boldest passed down the hill, joined Zagonyi, and were 
conspicuous for their valor during the rest of the day. Fair- 
banks and Kehoe, having gained the rear and left of the 
enemy's position, made two or three assaults upon detached 
parties of the foe, but did not join in the main attack. 

I now return to the Guard. It is forming under the shelter 
of the hill. In front, with a gentle inclination, rises a grassy 
slope, broken by occasional tree-stumps. A line of fire upon 
the summit marks the position of the rebel infantry, and 
nearer and on the top of a lower eminence to the right stand 



120 



A CAYALRY CHARGE. 



their "horse. Up to this time no Guardsman has struck a blow, 
but blue coats and bay horses lie thick along the bloody lane. 
Their time had come. Lieutenant Maythenyi with thirty 
men is ordered to attack the cavalry. With sabres flashing 
over their heads, the little band of heroes spring toward their 
tremendous foe. Eight upon the centre they charge. Th 
dense mass opens, the blue coats force their way in, and the 
whole rebel squadron scatter in disgraceful flight through the 
cornfields in the rear. The boys follow them, sabering the 
fugitives. Days after, the enemy's horses lay thick among 
the uncut corn. 

Zagonyi holds his main body until Maythenyi disappears 
in the cloud of rebel cavalry ; then his voice rises through 
the air : " In open order — charge !" The line opens out to 
give play to their sword-arm. Steeds respond to the ardor 
of their riders, and quick as thought, with thrilling cheers, 
the noble hearts rush into the leaden torrent which pours 
down the incline. With unabated fire the gallant fellows 
press through. Their fierce onset is not even checked. The 
foe do not wait for them — they waver, break, and fly. The 
guardsmen spur into the midst of the rout, and their fast- 
falling swords work a terrible revenge. Some of the boldest 
of the Southrons retreat into the woods, and continue a mur- 
derous fire from behind trees and thickets. Seven Guard 
horses fall upon a space not more than twenty feet square. 
As his steed sinks under him, one of the officers is caught 
around the shoulders by a grape-vine, and hangs dangling in 
the air until he is cut down by his friends. 

The rebel foot are flying in furious haste from the field. 
Some take refuge in the fair ground, some hurry into the 
cornfields, but the greater part run along the edge of the 
wood, swarm over the fence into the road ; and hasten to the 



A CAVALRY CHARGE. 



121 



village. The Guardsmen follow. Zagonji leads them. Over 
the loudest roar of battle rings his clarion voice — " Come on, 
old Kentuck ! I'm with you !" And the flash of his sword- 
blade tells his men where to go. As he approaches the barn, 
a man steps from behind a door, and lowers his rifle ; but 
beiore it had reached a level, Zagonyi' s sabre-point descends 
upon his head, and his life-blood leaps to the very top of the 
huge barn-door. 

The conflict now raged through the village — in the public 
square, and along the streets. Up and down the Guards 
Tide, in squads of three and four, and wherever they see a 
group of the enemy, charge upon and scatter them. It is 
hand to hand. No one but has a share in the fray. 

There was at least one soldier in the southern ranks. A 
young officer, superbly mounted, charges alone upon a large 
body of the guard. He passes through the line unscathed, 
killing one man. He wheels, charges back, and again breaks 
through, killing another man. A third time he rushes upon 
the Federal line, a score of sabre-points confront him, a cloud 
of bullets fly around him, but he pushes on until he reaches 
Zagonyi — he presses his pistol so close to the major's side, 
that he feels it, and draws convulsively back, the bullet 
passes through the front of Zagonyi's coat, who at the instant 
runs the daring rebel through the body ; he falls, and the 
men, thinking their commander hurt, kill him with a dozen 
wounds. 

" He was a brave man," said Zagonyi afterward, " and I 
did wish to make him prisoner.'"' 

Meanwhile it has grown dark. The foe have left the vil- 
lage, and the battle has ceased. The assembly is sounded, 
and the Guard gathers in the Plaza. Not more than eighty 
wounded men appear : the rest are killed, wounded, or un- 



122 



A CAVALRY CHARGE. 



horsed. At this time one of the most' characteristic incidents 
of the affair took place. 

Just before the charge, Zagonyi directed one of his buglers, 
a Frenchman, to sound a signal. The bugler did not seem to 
pay any attention to the order, but darted off* with Lieuten- 
ant Maythenyi. A few moments afterward, he was observed 
in another part of the field, vigorously pursuing the flying 
infantry. His active form was always seen in the thickest of 
the fight. When the line was formed in the Plaza, Zagonyi 
noticed the bugler, and approaching him, said ; u In the 
midst of battle you disobeyed my order. You are unworthy 
to be a member of the Guard. I dismiss you." The bugler 
showed his bugle to his indignant commander — the mouth- 
piece of the instrument was shot away. He said: "The 
mouth was shoot off. I could not bugle viz mon bugle, and 
so I bugle viz mon pistol and sabre." It is unnecessary to 
add, the brave Frenchman was not dismissed. 

I must not forget to mention Sergeant Hunter of the 
Kentucky company. His soldierly figure never failed to 
attract the eye in the ranks of the Guard. He had served in 
the regular cavalry, and the Body Guard had profited greatly 
from his skill as a drill master. He lost three horses in the 
fight. As' soon as one was killed, he caught another from 
the rebels ; the third horse taken by him in this way he rode 
into St. Louis. 

The sergeant slew five men. "I won't speak of those I 
shot," said he — " another may have hit them ; but those I 
touched with my sabre I am sure of, because I felt them." 

At the beginning of the charge, he came to the extreme 
right, and took position next to Zagonyi, whom he followed 
closely through the battle. The major seeing him, said: 

" Why are you here, Sergeant Hunter ? Your place is 
with your company on the left." 



A CAVALRY CHARGE. 



123 



" I kind o' wanted to be in front," was the answer. 

"What could I say to such a man?" exclaimed Zagonyi, 
speaking of the matter afterward. 

There was hardly a horse or rider among the survivors 
that did not bring away some mark of the fray. I saw one 
animal with no less than seven wounds — none of them seri- 
ous. Scabbards were bent, clothes and caps pierced, pistols 
injured. I saw one pistol from which the sight had been 
cut as neatly as it could have been done by machinery. A 
piece of board a few inches long was cut from a fence on the 
field, in which there were thirty-one shot-holes. 

It was now nine o'clock. The wounded had been carried 
to the hospital. The dismounted troopers were placed in 
charge of them — in the double capacity of nurses and guards. 
Zagonyi expected the foe to return every minute. It seemed 
like madness to try and hold the town with his small force, 
exhausted by the long march and desperate fight. He there- 
fore left Springfield, and retired before morning twenty-five 
miles on the Bolivar road. 

Captain Fairbanks did not see his commander after leaving 
the column in the lane, at the commencement of the engage- 
ment. About dusk he repaired to the prairie, and remained 
there, within a mile of the village, until midnight, when he 
followed Zagonyi, rejoining him in the morning. 

I will now return to Major White. During the conflict 
upon the hill, he was in the forest near the front of the rebel 
line. Here his horse was shot under him.* Captain Wroton 
kept careful watch over him. When the flight began he 
hurried White away, and, accompanied by a squad of eleven 
men, took him ten miles into the country. They stopped at 
a farm-house for the night. White discovered that their 
host was a Union man. Hh parole having expired, he took 



124 A CAYALRT CHARGE. 

advantage of the momentary absence of his captor to speak 
to the farmer, telling him who he was, and asking him to 
send for assistance. The countryman mounted his son upon 
his swiftest horse, and sent him for succor. The party lay 
down by the fire, White being placed in the midst. The 
rebels were soon asleep, but there was no sleep for the major. 
He listened anxiously for the footsteps of his rescuers. 
After long, weary hours, he heard the tramp of horses. He 
arose, and walking on tiptoe, cautiously stepping over his 
sleeping guard, he reached the door and silently unfas- 
tened it. The Union men rushed into the room and took 
the astonished Wroton and his followers prisoners. At day- 
break White rode into Springfield at the head of his captives 
and a motley band of home guards. He found the Federals 
still in possession of the place. As the officer of highest 
iank, he took command. His garrison consisted of twenty- 
four men. He stationed twenty -two of them as pickets in 
the outskirts of the village, and held the other two as a 
reserve. At noon the enemy sent a flag of truce, and asked 
permission to bury their dead. Major White received the 
flag with proper ceremony, but said that General Sigel was 
in command and the request would have to be referred to 
him. Sigel was then forty miles away. In a short time a 
written communication purporting to come from General 
Sigel arrived, saying that the rebels might send a party, 
under certain restrictions, to bury their dead. White drew 
in some of his pickets, stationed them about the field, and 
under their surveillance the southern dead were buried. 

The loss of the enemy, as reported by some of their work- 
ing party, was one hundred and sixteen killed. The number 
of wounded could not be ascertained. After the conflict had 
drifted away from the hill-side, some of the foe had returned 



Sheridan's ride. 



125 



to the field, taken away the wounded and robbed our dead. 
The loss of the Guard was fifty-three out of one hundred and 
forty-eight actually engaged, twelve men having been left 
by Zagonyi in charge of his train. The prairie scouts re- 
ported a loss of thirty-one out of one hundred and thirty ; 
half of these belonged to the Irish dragoons. In a neighbor- 
ing field an Irishman was found stark and stiff, still clinging 
to the hilt of his sword, which was thrust through the body 
of a rebel who lay beside him. Within a few feet a second 
rebel lay shot through the head. 



SHEEIDAN'S BIDE. 

BY T. BUCHANAN READ. 

TJp from the South, at break of day, 
Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, 
The affrighted air with a shudder bore 
Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door, 
The terrible grumble and rumble and roar, 
Telling the battle was on once more, 
And Sheridan twenty miles away. 

And wider still those billows of war 

Thundered along the horizon's bar, 

And louder yet into Winchester rolled 

The roar of that red sea, uncontrolled, 

Making the blood of the listener cold 

As he thought of the stake in that fie:y fray, 

And Sheridan twenty miles away. 



126 



Sheridan's ride. 



But there is a road to Winchester town, 

A good, broad highway, leading down ; 

And there, through the flush of the morning light, 

A steed, as black as the steeds of night, 

Was seen to pass as with eagle flight : 

As if he knew the terrible need, 

He stretched away with his utmost speed. 

Hill rose and fell ; but his heart was gay, 

With Sheridan fifteen miles away. 

Still sprung from those swift hoofs, thundering south, 

The dust, like the smoke from the cannon's mouth, 

Or the trail of a comet, sweeping faster and faster, 

Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster ; 

The heart of the steed and the heart of the master 

Were beating, like prisoners assaulting their walls, 

Impatient to be where the battle-field calls. 

Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play, 

With Sheridan only ten miles away. 

Under his spurning feet the ro&i 

Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed ; 

And the landscape sped away behind 

Like an ocean flying before the wind ; 

And the steed, like a bark fed with furnace ire, 

Swept on with his wild eyes full of fire. 

But lo ! he is nearing his heart's desire ; 

He is snuffing the smoke of the roaring fray, 

With Sheridan only five miles away. 

The first that the general saw were the groups 

Of stragglers, and then the retreating troops. 

What was done — what to do — a glance told him both ; 

Then, striking his spurs, with a terrible oath, 

He dashed down the line 'mid a storm of huzzas, 

• i 



TRUE TO HER PRINCIPLES. 



127 



And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because 

The sight of the master compelled it to pause. 

With foam and with dust the black charger was gray. 

By the flash of his eye, and his red nostrils' play, 

He seemed to the whole great army to say : 

14 1 have brought you Sheridan, all the way 

From Winchester down, to save you the day !" 

Hurrah, hurrah, for Sheridan ! 

Hurrah, hurrah, for horse and man ! 

And when their statues are placed on high, 

Under the dome of the Union sky — 

The American soldiers' Temple of Fame — ■ 

There with the glorious general's name, 

Be it said, in letters both bold and bright : 

" Here is the steed that saved the day 
By carrying Sheridan into the fight, 

From Winchester twenty miles away 1" 



TRUE TO HER PRINCIPLES. 

A &QUAD of Indiana volunteers, out scouting, came across 
a female in a log cabin in the mountains. After the usual 
salutations, one of them asked her, " Well, old lady, are you 
a secesh ?" "No," was the answer. "Are you Union?" 
"No." "What are you, then?" "A Baptist, an' always 
have been." The Hoosiers let down. 



128 



A WEDDING IN CAMP. 



A WEDDING IN CAMP. 

Six bold riflemen clad in blue, with scarlet doublets over 
the left shoulder, bearing blazing torches; six glittering 
Zouaves, with, brilliant trappings, sparkling in the light ; and 
then the hollow square, where march the bridegroom and 
bride ; then seven rows of six groomsmen in a row, all armed 
eap-a-pie, with burnished weapons, flashing back the lustre 
of the Zouave uniform ; and all around the grand regiment 
darkening the white tent folds, as their ruddy faces are but 
half disclosed between the red and yellow glare of the fires, 
and the soft silver light of the May-moon. (This is all, you 
will bear in mind, out on the broad, open air. The encamp- 
ment occupies a conically-shaped hill-top, flanked around the 
rear crescent by a wood of fan-leaved maples sprinkled with 
blossoming dogberries, and looking out at the cone upon the 
river-awards below. The plain is full of mounds and ridges, 
sa^e where it bulges in the centre to a circular elevation 
pertectly flat, around which, like facades about a court-yard, 
are arrayed the spiral tents, illuminated in honor of the 
coming nuptials.) The bride is the daughter of the regi- 
ment; the to-be-husband a favorite sergeant. Marching thus, 
preceded by two files of sixes, and followed by the glittering 
rows of groomsmen, the little cortege has moved out of the 
great tent on the edge of the circle, and comes slowly, amid 
the bold strains of the grand " Midsummer Night's Dream," 
toward the regimental chaplain. 

You have seen the colored prints of Jenny Lind on the 
back of the music of " Vive la France.'' 1 You have noted the 
light-flowing hair, the soft Swiss eye, the military bodice, 
the coquettish red skirt, and the pretty buskined feet and 
ankles underneath. The print is not unlike the bride. She 



A WEDDING IN CAMP. 129 

was fair-haired, blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked, darkened in their 
hue by exposure to the sun, in just the dress worn by les 
filles du regiment She was formed in that athletic mould 
which distinguishes the Amazon from her opposite extreme 
of frailty. You could not doubt her capacity to undergo the 
fatigues and hardships of a campaign, but your mind did not 
suggest to your eye those grosser and more masculine quali- 
ties which, whilst girting the woman with strength, disrobe 
her of the purer, more effeminate traits of body. You saw 
before yon a young girl, apparently about eighteen years of 
age, with clear, courageous eye, quiverless lip, and soldierly 
tread, a veritable daughter of the regiment. You have seen 
Caroline Richings and good old Peter (St. Peter 1) march over 
the stage as the corporal and la fille. Well, this girl, barring 
the light flaxen hair, would remind you of the latter drilling 
a squad of grenadiers. 

The bridegroom was of the same sanguine, Germanic 
temperament as the bride. As he marched, full six feet in 
height, with long, light colored beard, high cheek-bones, 
aquiline nose, piercing, deeply-studied blue eye, broad shoul- 
ders long arms, sturdy legs, feet and hands of a laborious de- 
velopment, cocked hat with blue plume, dark blue frock, 
with bright scarlet blanket, tartan fashion over the shoulder, 
small sword, you would have taken him for a hero of Sir 
Walter. Faith, had Sir Walter seen him, he himself would 
have taken him. In default, however, of Sir Walter, I make 
bold to appropriate him as a hero on the present occasion 
Indeed, he was a hero, and looked it, every inch of him, 
] jading that self sacrificing girl up to the regimental chap 
lain, with his robe, and surplice, and great book, amid the 
stars of a thousand anxious eyes, to the music of glorious' 
9 



ROLL CALL. 



old Mendelssohn, and the beating of a thousand earnest 
hearts ! 

The music ceased ; a silence as calm as the silent moon 
held the strange, wild place ; the fires seemed to sparkle 
less noisily in reverence ; and a little white cloud paused in 
its course across the sky to look down on the group below ; 
the clear voice of the preacher sounded above the suppressed 
breathing of the spectators, and the vague burning of the 
fagot heaps ; a few short words, a few heartfelt prayers, the 
formal legal ceremonial, and the happy " Amen." It was 
done, The pair were man and wife. In rain or sunshine, 
joy or sorrow, for weal or woe, bone of one bone, and flesh 
of one flesh, forever and ever, amen ! 



EOLL CALL. 

" Corporal Green !" the orderly cried ; 
" Here !" was the answer, loud and clear, 
From the lips of a soldier who stood near, 

And " Here !" was the word the next replied. 

"Cyrus Drew!"— then a silence fell, — 
This time no answer followed the call : 
Only his rear-man had seen him fall, 

Killed or wounded he could not tell. 

There they stood in the failing light, 
These men of battle, with grave, dark looks, 
As plain to be read as open books ; 

While slowly gathered the shade of night. 



ROLL CALL. 



131 



The ferns on the hill-side were splashed with blood, 
And down in the corn, where the poppies grew, 
Were redder strains than the poppies knew ; 

And crimson-dyed is the river's flood. 

For the foe had crossed from the other side 
That day, in the face of a murderous fire 
That swept them down in its terrible ire ; 

And their life-blood went to color the tide. 

" Herbert Cline !" — At the call there came 
Two stalwart soldiers into the line, 
Bearing between them this Herbert Cline, 

Wounded and bleeding, to answer his name. 

" Ezra Kerr !" — and a voice answered " Here !" 

" Hiram Kerr I" but no man replied : 

They were brothers, these two ; the sad wind sighed 
And a shudder crept through the corn-field near. 

" Ephraim Deane !" — then a soldier spoke : 
" Deane carried our regiment's colors," he said, 
" When our ensign was shot ; I left him dead, 

Just after the enemy wavered and broke. 

" Close to the roadside his body lies ; 

I paused a moment and gave him to drink ; 

He murmured his mother's name, I think ; 
And Death came with it and closed his eyes." 

'Twas a victory — yes : but it cost us dear ; 
For that company's roll, when called at night, 
Of a hundred men who went into the fight, 

Numbered but twenty that answered " Here l n 



152 



THE CLOTHES-LINE TELEGRAPH. 



THE CLOTHES-LINE TELEG-EAPH. 

Ih Lbe early part of IS 63, when the Union army was 
encamped at Ealniouth, and picketing the banks of the Eap 
pahannock, the utmost tact and ingenuity were displayed, 
by the scouts and videttes, in gaining a knowledge of con- 
templated movements on either side ; and here, as at various 
other times, the shrewdness of the African camp attendants 
was very remarkable. 

One circumstance in particular shows how quick the race 
are in learning the ar: of communicating by signals. 

There came into the Union lines a negro from a farm on 
the other siae of the river, known by the name of Dabney, 
who was found to possess a remarkably clear knowledge of 
the topography of the whole region ; and he was employed 
as cook and body servant at headquarters. When he first 
saw our system of army telegraphs, the idea interested him 
intensely, and he begged the operators to explain the signs 
to him. They did so, and found that he could understand 
and remember the meaning of the various movements as 
well as any of his brethren of paler hue. 

Not long after, his wife, who had come with him, expressed 
a great anxiety to be allowed to go over to the other side as 
servant to a "secesh woman." whim General H::ner vats 
about sending over to her friends. The request was granted. 
Dabney's wife went across the Rappahannock, and in a few 
days was duly installed as laundress at the headquarters of a 
prominent rebel general. Dabney, her husband, on the north 
bank, was soon found to be wonderfully well informed as to 
all the re b el plans. Within an hour of the time that a move- 
ment of any kind was projected, or even discussed, among 
the rebel generals, Hooker knew all about it. He knew 



THE CLOTHES-LINE TELEGRAPH. 



133 



which corps was moving, or about to move, in what direc- 
tion, how long they had been on the march, and in what 
force ; and all this knowledge came through Dabney, and his 
reports always turned out to be true. 

Yet Dabney was never absent, and never talked with the 
scouts, and seemed to be always taken up with his duties as 
cook and groom about headquarters. 

How he obtained his information remained for some time 
a puzzle to the Union officers. At length, upon much solici- 
tation, he unfolded his marvellous secret to one of our officers. 

Taking him to a point where a clear view could be ob- 
tained of Fredricsburg, he pointed out a little cabin in the 
suburbs near the river bank, and asked him if he saw that 
clothes-line with clothes hanging on it to dry. " Well," said 
he, " that clothes-line tells me in half an hour just what goes 
on at Lee's headquarters. You see my wife over there ; she 
washes for the officers, and cooks, and waits around, and as 
soon as she hears about any movement or any thing going on, 
she comes down and moves the clothes on that line so I can 
understand it in a minute. That there gray shirt is Long- 
street ; and when she takes it off, it means he's gone down 
about Eichmond. That white shirt means Hill ; and when 
she moves it up to the west end of the line, Hill's corps has 
moved up stream. That red one is Stonewall. He's down 
on the right now, and if he moves, she will move that red 
shirt." 

One morning Dabney came in and reported a movement 
over there. " But," says he, " it don't amount to any thing. 
They're just making believe." 

An officer went out to look at the clothes-line telegraph 
through his field-glass. There had been quite a shifting over 
there among the army flannels. " But how do you know but 
there is something in it ?" 



134 



THE CHARGE AT POET HUDSON. 



"Do you see those two blankets pinned together at the 
bottom ?" said Dabney. * Yes, but what of it ?" said the 
officer. " Why, that's her way of making a fish-trap ; and 
when she pins the clothes together that way, it means that 
Lee is only trying to draw us into his fish-trap." 

As long as the two armies lay watching each other on 
opposite banks of the stream, Dabney, with his clothes-line 
telegraph, continued to be one of the promptest and most 
reliable of Geneial Hooker's scouts. 



THE CHAKG-E AT POET HUDSON". 

A soldier who participated in the storming of Port Hud- 
son, on the 14th of June, 1863, gives the following account 
of that unfortunate affair : "I have been in many battles, 
but I never saw, and never wish to see, such a fire as that 
poured on us on June 14th. It was not terrible — it was 
horrible. 

" Our division (second) stormed about a mile from the 
Mississippi. We left our camp at twelve o'clock, midnight, 
on the 13th, and proceeded to the left, arriving just at day- 
light, where the balance of our brigade (second) awaited us. 

" Colonel Benedict arrived from opposite Port Hudson on 
the 12th, and our regiment was transferred from the first to 
the second brigade, and he placed in command. The move- 
ment to the left took all by surprise ; but we got in shape 
behind a piece of woods which concealed the enemy's works, 
and rested. The first brigade went in first, and we followed — 
the third brigade being a reserve. I saw the first brigade file 
left and move on, but saw no more of it. When the order 



v 

THE CHARGE AT PORT HUDSON. 



135 



came to move on, we did so in ' column of company/ at full 
distance. Ask some good military man what he thinks of a 
brigade moving to a charge in that manner. The one hun- 
dred and sixty-second leading, the one hundred and seventy- 
fifth (Bryan's) after us ; then the forty- eighth Massachusetts, 
and twenty -eighth Maine. We were in a road parallel to 
the enemy's works, and had to change direction to, or file 
left round the corner of the woods, and then started forward 
by a road leading up. The ground rose gradually, and away 
above, the rebel works were in plain sight. The moment 
we turned into the road, shot, shell, grape, and canister fell 
like hail, in, amongst, and around us. But on we went. A 
little higher, a new gun opened on us. Still farther they had 
a cross-fire on us — ! such a terrible one ; but on we went, 
bending as, with sickening shrieks, the grape and canister 
swept over us. Sometimes it fell in and about us; but I 
paid no heed to it. 

"After the first, my whole mind was given to the colors, 
and to keep my men around them ; and they did it well. I 
wonder now, as I think of it, how I did so. I walked erect, 
though from the moment I saw how they had us, I was sure 
I would be killed. I had no thought (after a short prayer) 
but for my flag. I talked and shouted. I did all man could 
do to keep my boys to their 4 colors.' I tried to draw their 
attention from the enemy to it, as I knew we would advance 
more rapidly. The brave fellows stood by it, as the half- 
score who fell attest. The ' color-bearer' fell, but the 1 flag' 
did not. Half the guard fell, but the ' flag' was there. Ask 
(if I never come home) my colonel or lieutenant-colonel if 
any one could have done better than I did that day. I do 
not fear their answer. When about three hundred yards 
from the works, T was struck. The pain was so intense that 



136 



THE CHAEGE AT PORT HUDSON". 



T could not go on. I turned to my second lieutenant, wno 
was in command of company C, as lie came up to me, and 
said: 'Never mind me, Jack; for God's sake, jump to the 
colors.' I don't recollect any more, till I heard Colonel B. 
say : ' Up, men, and forward.' I looked, and saw the rear 
regiments lying flat to escape the fire, and Colonel B. stand- 
ing there, the shot striking all about him, and he never 
flinching. It was grand to see him. I wish I was of 1 iron 
nerve,' as he is. When I heard him speak, I forgot all else, 
and, running forward, did not stop till at the very front and 
near the colors again. There, as did all the rest, I lay down, 
and soon learned the trouble. Within two hundred yards 
of the works was a ravine parallel with them, imperceptible 
till just on the edge of it, completely impassable by the fallen 
timber in it. Of course we could not move on. To stand 
up was certain death ; so was retreat. Nought was left but 
to lie down with what scanty cover we could get. So we did 
lie down, in that hot, scorching sun. I fortunately got behind 
two small logs, which protected me on two sides, and lay 
there, scaroely daring to turn, for four hours, till my brain 
reeked and surged, and I thought I should go mad. Death 
would have been preferable to a continuance of such torture. 
Lots of poor fellows were shot as they were lying down, and 
to lie there and hear them groan and cry was awful. J ust 
on the other side of the log lay the gallant Colonel Bryan, 
with both legs broken by shot. He talked of home, but bore it 
like a patriot. Near him was one of my own brave boys, with 
five balls in him. I dared not stir, my hand ached so, and it 
would have been death also. Well, the colonel got out of 
pain sooner than some, for he died after two hours of intense 
agony. Bullets just grazed me as they passed over, and one 
entered the ground within an inch of my right eye. I could 



THF CHARGE AT PORT HUDSON. 



137 



not go that. Our bojs had run back occasionally, but got a 
volley as they did so from the rebels, who would curse them. 
I waited till our cannon fired a round at them, then up and 
ran across the road, and fell flat behind some low brush or 
weeds ; and well I did. They saw my sword, and fired seve 
ral volleys after me. As my hand was very lame, I crawled 
several rods back, then under a big log, got behind it, and, 
for the first time in five hours, sat up. I bathed my hand, 
and after awhile made my way to the rear, got it dressed, 
and was on my way back, when I learned that the men were 
to work in, by one and twos ; so I staid. I then learned of 
poor Bryan's fate, and one by one came the tidings of my 
own men, and when the word came of them I cried like a 
child. Some of them passed me on the way to have their 
wounds dressed, and blessed me as they passed by. When 
night came, the troops came in and line was formed, and a 
small one we had. The major's body was brought in to be 
sent home, and my pet favorite, Sergeant Fred. Mitchell 
(who, as a favor to me, Colonel Benedict had made an acting 
lieutenant — he was so good a soldier, and handsome and tal- 
ented), the last I saw of him, was his sword flashing in the 
sunlight as he urged the men forward ; but he was brought 
in with half his head torn off, and it was hard to recognize 
him. But God bless him ! He was true, for his right hand 
grasped his sword firmly in death. I have it stored to be 
sent to his friends. Colonel B. and Lieutenant-Colonel B., 
came out safe. The lieutenant-colonel had been sick for 
some time, and this finished him. So I took command of 
the regiment, brought it to the mortar battery, and bivou- 
acked for the night." 



138 



WASHING DAY IN CAMP. 



WASHING- DAY IN CAMP. 

"This is washing day with us," writes a soldier oi the 
forty-first Ohio regiment. " Washing day ! You know at 
home what a terrible disturber of domestic comfort it is. My 
recollections of it are associated with cold feet, damp floors, 
meagre dinners, cross mothers, and birch rods. The servant 
girls and I used to fight more on washing days than on any 
other. Washing is as much a duty as fighting. Woe to the 
unlucky sloven that appears at Sunday morning inspection 
with dirty clothes, dirty hands, long hair, or untrimmed 
beard. We are expected to bathe all over once or twice a 
week. This requirement is one of the soldier's greatest 
blessings. At first, clothes washing was a difficult and 
tedious operation ; but now there is not one of us that is not 
thoroughly initiated into the mysteries of washing, rinsing, and 
wringing. It is genuine satisfaction to see a fastidious youth, 
who, perhaps, has often found fault with his mother or sister 
on account of fancied imperfections in his linen, knee deep in 
water t worrying about some garment, in vain endeavors to 
wash it. Justice comes round at last. When I was a little 
brat I frequently used to throw down my bread and butter 
when it was not sugared to suit my whim. My mother 
would then say, ' You'll see the day, my boy, when you'll be 
glad to get that crust.' I have realized the truth of her 
words scores of times within the last year. Washing day 
with us has its amusements. On one occasion, last summer, 
while we were stationed at Murfreesboro', a party of about 
one hundred of us were washing at a large spring on the 
opposite side of the town from where we were encamped. 
Buell's army was, at that time, exceedingly short of supplies. 
But few of us had more than one shirt — sc me were not even 



ARMY EXCHANGES. 



139 



ikh\ fortunace. It was a warm, pleasant day. We had re- 
mo \ ed our clothes, placing them in kettles, built fires, and 
were boiling them out, busying ourselves, meanwhile, in 
playing 'leap-frog,' 'tag,' 'blackman,' and divers other games, 
when lo ! a party of rebel cavalry came thundering down 
upon us in pursuit of a forage train that had been sent out in 
the morning. What were we to do ? We had no arms with 
us ; our clothes were in boiling hot water ; the enemy were 
drawing near, fearfully near. Jumping over the fence, the 
whole party of us scud right through the town for camp like 
so many wild Indians, as fast as our legs could carry us. 
The citizens, supposing we would all be captured, came out 
in great glee, shouting, ' Eun, Yanks ! run Yanks !' as we 
fled through the streets. We reached camp in safety, to the 
great astonishment and amusement of our comrades. It was 
a long time before we heard the last of that washing day. I 
asked one old black woman if she didn't blush when she saw 
us running through town. She replied, ' Why, de Lord God 
A'mi'ty bress ye, child — I couldn't blush for laughing." 



AEMY EXCHANGES. 

A letter from the Army of the Potomac, dated February 
12, 1863, contains the following : — 

" The rebels recently rigged up a plank, with a sail and 
rudder attached, and on top placed a drawer, evidently taken 
from an old secretary, in which they put two Eichmond 
papers, and on top a half plug of tobacco, with a written 
request for a Xew York Herald, and stating that 'they 
would come over and have a little chat,' if we would pledge 



140 



A SFOW-BALL BATTLE. 



faith. But this kind of intercourse is strictly forbidden un 
our part. The next day, after the ninth army corps had 
left, the rebels hailed our pickets, and asked 'where the 
ninth army corps had gone.' 

" I returned this morning from a visit to our pickets. 
Company I, one hundred and thirty-ninth Pennsylvania 
volunteers, has a very good location for standing post, but 
the ' Johnny Eebs' are perfectly docile. Night before last 
Harry Born, one of our boys, was busily engaged in singing 
a song entitled 1 Fairy Bell,' and when the time came for the 
chorus, the four rebs on the post opposite struck up, drown- 
ing Harry's voice almost entirely." 



A SNOW-BALL BATTLE. 

A soldieb of one of the New Jersey regiments writes as 
follows : — ■ 

You are probably aware that the second brigade of this 
division consists of four Vermont regiments, besides the 
twenty sixth. During the late heavy fall of snow, the Yer- 
monters twice made an attack on the encampment of the 
twenty-sixth, sending a perfect shower of snow-balls at the 
head of every luckless Jerseyman who made his appearance 
without his tent. The first attack was a complete surprise to 
us ; but we essayed a sally from the camp, and drove the at- 
tacking party back to their reserves. Being heavily rein- 
forced they charged on us again, and after a desperate resist- 
ance we were driven back into camp, fighting resolutely from 
the shelter of our tents until darkness put an end to the con- 
test. Our casualties were \piite heavy, but those of the en 



A SNOW-BALL BATTLE. 



141 



emy, it is thought, exceeded ours. A few days afterw^i'd the 
attack was renewed, but we took up a strong position on a 
hill in the rear of the camp, and repulsed every assault of the 
foe. The snow was crimsoned with the blood issuing from 
the olfactory organs of the Yermonters, and the appearance 
of the battle-field indicated the fierce nature of the contest 
The enemy raised a flag of truce, an armistice of a few hours 
was concluded, and then ensued that novel spectacle of 
war — men, who but a few minutes previous were engaged in 
one of the most sanguinary battles of modern times, harmo- 
nizing and fraternizing with clasped hands. 

" But the matter did not rest here. The night of the 24th 
had enveloped terra firma with its dusky shades. Many a 
waxen nose in the camps of the second brigade snored so- 
norously, happily unconscious of its ruby discoloration on 
the morrow. Many an eye placidly closed in slumber was 
to be violently closed in battle ere the approach of another 
nightfall. And many a phrenological bump sparsely devel- 
oped on the night in question was to be suddenly brought 
to an age of puberty on the approaching day. The eventful 
morning opened. Colonel Morrison sent a challenge to 
Colonel Seaver of the third Vermont to engage in the open 
field at three o'clock p. M. The challenge was accepted, on 
the condition that the fourth Yermont should be included 
with the third. This was agreed to by the colonel. Before 
the appointed time some of our men were detailed on fatigue 
duty, and at the time of the engagement we were only able 
to muster some three hundred men. 

" Nothing daunted by the superiority of numbers, Colonel 
Morrison ordered Lieutenant McCleese, of company C (Cap- 
tain Pemberton being sick), to fortify a small hill on our 
right, make as much ammunition as possible, and pile the 



142 



A SNOW-BALL BATTLE. 



snow-balls in pyramids. This arduous duty was hastily 
performed. It was a strong position, a swollen brook at its 
base answering the purpose of a moat — too strong in fact, 
for the Vermonters, and they declined to attack us while 
occupying this miniature Chepultepec. Commissioners were 
appointed, and after a parley, the twenty-sixth was marched 
across the brook ; and formed in line of battle on the field 
fronting the Yermonters. The hills were covered with 
spectators, and the eagerness to witness the novel contest 
knew no bounds. Companies A and B were thrown out as 
skirmishers. Company E occupied the right, C was given 
the centre, and H rested on the left. The colonel dashed 
over the field in all directions, encouraging the men to stand 
fast, amid the blue wreaths curling from a 'brier wood' 
nonchalantly held in his left hand, and the adjutant danced 
about on a spirited charger, apparently impatiently awaiting 
the hour of contest, the light of battle dilating within his 
eyes, and a quid of 1 navy plug' reposing beneath his cheek. 
Lieutenant Woods of the ambulance corps, and Lieute- 
nant acted as mounted aids to the colonel, while the 

1 sergeant' and John K. Shaw, an aspiring Newark youth of 
eighteen, acted as perambulating aids. The line being 
formed and every thing in readiness for the contest, a red 
flag was raised as a signal, and in a breath of time a strong 
body of the enemy drove in our skirmishers, and fiercely 
attacked our centre. At the same moment another strong 
force advanced against our right, but only as a feint ; for 
they suddenly wheeled to the right, and joined their com- 
rades in a furious charge on our centre. Major Morris 
ordered up company E from our right, but too late to be of 
any advantage, and they w^re completely cut off from the 
main body of our army. Although flanked and pressed in 



A SNOW-BALL BATTLE. 



143 



front by overwhelming numbers, our centre heroically con 
tested the advance of the enemy. Animated by the presence 
of the colonel, they fought like veterans, and the white snow- 
balls eddied through the air like popping corn from a frying 
pan. But the enemy were madly surging upon us in supe 
rior force, and it was hardly within the power of human 
endurance to stand such a perfect feu cPenfer any longer. 
Gradually the centre fell back inch by inch, the line then 
wavered to and fro, and finally the men broke in confusion 
and rolled down the hill followed by the victorious Yer- 
monters. In vain the colonel breasted the torrent ; in vain 
the major urged the men to stand fast; in vain did adjutant 
"White, the chivalric De Bayard of the twenty-sixth, implore 
the gods for aid. 

tl The boys never rallied. Lieutenant Woods made an at- 
tempt to rally them, and form them in hollow square on 
the fortified hill to the right, but he was mistaken by the 
boys for a Yermonter, and uncermoniously pelted from their 
midst. But the colonel was totally deserted by his men. The 
Yermonters seized his horse by the bridle, and made a des- 
perate attempt to take him prisoner. The fight at this point 
was terrific beyond description. The men fought hand to 
hand. Colonel Seaver, the Achilles of the day, dashed 
through the combatants, seized Colonel Morrison by the 
shoulder, and called upon him to surrender. But his demand 
was choked by the incessant patter of snow-balls on his 
'physog.' Around the rival chieftains the men struggled 
fearfully ; there was the auburn-haired Hodge, alias ' Wild 
Dutchman,' fighting manfully. There was the fierce Teuton 
captain of company E, dropping the foe right and left at 
every swing of his arms ; but all in vain. Amid the wild 
excitement consequent upon the shouting, the rearing and 



144 



A SNOW-BALL BATTLE. 



plunging of horses, the colonel was drawn from his saddle 
and taken bj the enemy. Most of his ' staff' followed him as 
prisoners. A desperate attempt was made to rescue him, but 
it proved of no avaiL Major Morris fared no better. Adju- 
tant White, however, made a bold attempt to retrieve the 
fortunes of the day. Dashing into the dense ranks of the foe 
he seized the bridle of Colonel Stoughton's Bucephalus, and 
gallantly attempted the impossibility of capturing the colonel, 
who was the acting brigadiar of the attacking party. But the 
adjutant had 'caught a Tartar,' for the Yermonters rushed 
around him, like the waves beating upon some lone rock in 
the ocean, and vainly clamored for his surrender. He fought 
like an Ajax mounted on a 'Black Bess,' retaining his posi- 
tion in the saddle by resting his knee against the pommel. 
This was at last observed by a shrewd Yankee, who dexter- 
ously slipped between the two horses, detached the support- 
ing knee, and the adjutant fell from his lofty position like a 
tornado-stricken oak. This fall disheartened the twenty-sixth, 
and only detached parties of a dozen, scattered over the field, 
persisted in an obstinate resistance. The ' Serjeant' received 
a solid shot in the back of the head, and was borne to the 
rear a captive, and then 

1 The bugles sang truce.' 

" Thus ended the great battle of Fairview ; unequalled in 
desperateness, and the theme of many a future poet's cogita- 
tions. Our loss was very heavy, and we were severely de- 
feated. The spectators, acting on the well-known principle 
of kicking a man when he is down, pitched into us most 
unmercifully, when our centre was broken, and prevented us 
from re-forming in line of battle. The slaughter of the 
enemy was fearful, and the prowess of the Newark ball 



THE BATTLE-CRY OF FREEDOM. 



145 



players and firemen was displayed on their battered visages- 
Colonel Stoughton was honored with a black eye, and the 
gallant Seaver fared but little better. The following is a fair 
recapitulation of the casualties on both sides : — 

" Bloody noses, fifty-three ; bunged peepers, eighty-one ; 
extraordinary phrenological developments, twenty-nine; shot 
in the neck, after the engagement, unknown. 

" The Yermonters fought with the determined energy cha- 
racterizing them when engaging Jeffs mermidons." 



THE BATTLE-CEY OF FREEDOM. 

Yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys, 

We'll rally once again, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom ; 
We will rally from the hill-side, 

We will rally from the plain, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 

Chorus — The Union forever ! Hurrah, hoys, hurrah I 
Down with the traitors, up with the stars ; 
While we rally round the flag, boys, 

Ball}' once again 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 

We are springing to the call 

Of our brothers gone before, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom ; 
•And we'll fill the vacant ranks 

With a million freemen more, 
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom. 

The Union forever, etc. 

10 



THE BATTLE-CRY OF FREEDOM. 



We will welcome to our number 
The loyal, true, and brave, 

Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom ; 

And although he may be poor 
He shall never be a slave, 

Shouting the battle-cry of freedom. 
The Union forever, etc. 

We are springing to the call, 

From the East and from the West, 

Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom ; 

And we'll hurl the rebel crew 
From the land we love the best, 

Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom 
The Union forever, etc. 

We are marching to the field, boys, 

Going to the fight, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom ; 
And well bear the glorious Stars 

Of the Union and the Right, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 

The Union forever, etc. 

We'll meet the rebel host, boys, 
With fearless hearts and true, 

Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom 

And we'll show what Uncle Sam 
Has for lo}~al men to do, 

Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 
The Union forever, etc 

If we fall amid the fray, boys, 

We will face them to the last, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom ; 



ANECDOTE OF COLONEL HUGH MCNEILL. K7 

And our comrades brave shall hear us, 

As we are rushing past, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 

The Union forever, etc. 

Yes, for Liberty and Union 

"We are springing to the fight, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom : 
And the victory shall be ours, 

Forever rising in our might, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 

The Union forever, etc. 



AN ANECDOTE OF COLONEL HUGH McNEILL. 

During the battle of South Mountain the rebels held a very 
strong position. They were posted in the mountain pass, and 
had infantry on the heights on every side. Our men were 
compelled to carry the place by storm. The position seemed 
impregnable ; large craggy rocks protected the enemy on 
every side, while our men were exposed to a galling fire. 

A band of rebels occupied a ledge on the extreme right, as 
the colonel approached with a few of his men. The unseen 
force poured upon them a volley. McNeill, on the instant, 
gave the command : — 

" Pour your fire on those rocks !" 

The Bucktails hesitated ; it was not an order that they had 
been accustomed to receive ; they had always picked their 
men. 

" Fire r thundered the colonel ; " I tell you to fire at those 
rocks I" 



US ANECDOTE OF COLONEL HUGH M'NEILL. 



The men obeyed. For some time an irregular fire waa 
kept up, the Bucktails skeltering themselves, as best they 
could, behind trees and rocks. On a sudden McNeill caught 
sight of two rebels peering through an opening in the works 
to get an aim. The eyes of the men followed their com- 
mander, and half a dozen rifles were leveled in that direction. 

" Wait a minute," said the colonel ; " I will try my hand. 
There is nothing like killing two birds with one stone." 

The two rebels were not in line, but one stood a little dis- 
tance back of the other, while just in front of the foremost was 
a slanting rock. Colonel McNeill seized a rifle, raised it, 
glanced a moment along the polished barrel ; a report fol- 
lowed, and both the rebels disappeared. At that moment a 
loud cheer a little distance beyond rent the air. 

"Ail is right, now," cried the colonel ; "charge the rascals." 

The men sprang up among the rocks in an instant. The 
affrighted rebels turned to run, but encountered another body 
of the Bucktails, and were obliged to surrender. Not a man 
of them escaped. Every one saw the object of the colonel's 
order to fire at random among the rocks. He had sent the 
party around to their rear, and meant thus to attract their 
attention. It was a perfect success. 

The two rebels by the opening in the ledge were found 
lying there stiff and cold. Colonel McNeill's bullet had 
struck the slanting rock, in front of them, glanced, and passed 
through both their heads. There it lay beside them, flattened. 
The colonel picked it up, and put it in his pocket. 



THE STARS AND STRIPES OYER RICHMOND. 



149 



HOW THEY GOT THEIE LIQUOK. 

The smuggling of liquors into the Union camps of the 
Potomac army was carried on very ingeniously, and to a 
very great extent. It was ascertained — and this was but one 
of the many cute devices resorted to — that parties engaged 
in bringing liquid offal from the camps in the vicinity of 
Alexandria, conveyed enormous quantities of liquor across 
the Potomac, by constructing their tubs with false bottoms — 
one for the liquor and one for the offal. This little trick was 
at last exposed by a man engaged in the legitimate part of the 
business, the offal — who feared that if the officials should dis- 
cover the guilty, that all would be adjudged so, and that, in 
that way, he would be deprived of the lucrative profits which 
he was then realizing. Another mode of getting liquor to 
the soldiers, on the opposite side of the Potomac, was more 
difficult of prevention. Large numbers of jugs, filled with 
villanous whisky, were carried across the river, in true sub- 
marine style. Parties had a small wire, coiled on a tackle, 
by which means they drew bottles and jugs of the "critter" 
across, realizing enormous profits in their sale. 



THE STAES AND STEIPES OYEE RICHMOND. . 

The crowning event of the rebellion was undoubtedly the 
capture of Richmond, by the loyal or Federal forces. The 
most striking incident of this achievement was the ree'stablish- 
ment of the United States, or American flaar, in the rebel 
capital, 'over the rebel capitol, in which the rebel Congress 
met and deliberated, and a traitor convention passed the ordi- 



150 THE STARS AND STRIPES OYER RICHMOND. 



nance of secession, which they vainly hoped would carry 
Virginia out of the Union. The details of this interesting 
event are as follows : — 

The one division of the twenty-fifth and one of the twenty- 
fourth corps, composing that portion of the army of the 
James, which lay on the extreme right of Grant's Army of 
investment, occupied positions within seven miles of the be- 
leaguered rebel stronghold. From an adjacent hill, Eichmond 
was as plainly to be discerned as Port Ewing from the hills 
above Barrytown. 

This corps was commanded by Major- General Godfrey 
Weitzel. His chief of the staff was Brigadier-General 
George P. Shepley, formerly military governor of New 
Orleans, and lately of Norfolk. His aid-de-camp, Lieutenant 
Johnston L. de Peyster, had been transferred with his chief 
to the staff of General Weitzel, and thus became aid-de-camp 
to the latter. Lieutenant de Peyster belonged to the 13th 
New York artillery, and was, as is well known, from Tivoli, 
Red Hook, Dutchess County, New York. 

The night of the 2d and 3d of April was one of intense 
anxiety and expectation in the Army of the James Through- 
out the previous day they could hear the tremendous roar of 
the terrible battle in which their comrades were engaged, far 
away across the river upon the extreme left and around 
Petersburg, and they knew that the next morning, early, they 
were to play their dangerous part by assaulting the rebel 
works in their front in order to capture Richmond itself. 

About two A. M., April 3d, Lieutenant de Peyster, hearing 
tremendous explosions, and seeing a vast blaze in the direc- 
tion of Richmond, mounted the wooden signal tower, about 
seventy feet high, at General Weitzel 's headquarters, and re- 
ported that he could discern a great fire toward Richmond 



THE STARS AND STRIPES OYER RICHMOND. 151 



He could not decide, however, that the city was burning. 
Efforts were at once made to capture a rebel picket. About 
three A. M. they were successful. A prisoner, of the thirty- 
seventh Virginia artillery, reported that he neither knew 
where his general nor his command were. This led Genera] 
Shepley to believe the rebels were evacuating Kichmond. 
About half past three A. M., a deserter came in and an- 
nounced that the city was being abandoned. At four A. M., 
a negro drove into the Federal lines in a buggy, and con- 
firmed the glorious news. Joy and exultation at once ab- 
sorbed every other feeling, and orders were immediately 
given for the troops to move. This was about six A. M. 
Brevet Brigadier-General Draper's colored brigade led the 
advance, along a road strewn with all kinds of abandoned 
munitions of war, and amid the roar of bursting shells, which 
was terrific. On either side small red flags indicated the 
position of buried torpedoes between the two lines of abatis 
in Weitzel's immediate front. These warning indications 
the rebels had not had time to remove. This fortunate inci- 
dent preserved many lives, as the space was very narrow 
between the explosives. 

The rebel defences seemed almost impregnable. Every 
elevation along the road was defended by fieldworks, and 
very strong forts. Two lines of abatis and three lines of rifle- 
pits and earthworks, one within the other, defended every 
avenue of attack and point of advantage. The first and sec- 
ond lines were connected by regular lines of redans and 
works — the third, near the city and commanding it, discon- 
nected. If our troops should have had to carry the defences 
by storm, the loss would have been fearful, since the contest 
would have been constantly renewed, because the rebels, as 
fast as one line of defences was occupied, would only have 



l52 THE STARS AND STRIPES OYER RICHMOND. 



had to fall back into another to recommence the butchery ol 
the assailants under every advantage to themselves. 

Brigadier- General Shepley had brought with him, from 
ISTorfork, a storm flag, which had formerly belonged to the 
twelfth Maine volunteers. Of this regiment he had been 
originally colonel. This flag had floated triumphantly over 
the St. Charles Hotel at New Orleans. This latter building 
was the headquarters of General Butler, to whom General 
Shepley had acted as chief of staff. Shepley had previously, 
in sport, made the remark that the flag referred to would do 
to float over Eichmond, and that he hoped to see it there. 
Lieutenant de Peyster, who heard this, asked the general "if 
he would allow him to raise it for him." Shepley baid, 
" Yes, if you bring it with you, and take care of it, you shall 
raise it in Eichmond." As the twenty-fifth corps left their 
lines to advance toward Eichmond, the aid asked his general 
if he recollected his promise about the flag. " Yes, go tc my 
tent and get the flag, and carry it on your saddle ; I »viil 
send you to raise it if we get in." 

April 3, six A. M., General Weitzel and his staff, together 
more than thirty officers, each having an orderly following 
in the rear, galloped on through the wrecks of the retreating 
rebels and the columns of the advancing Federals. As soon 
as they entered the suburbs of the rebel capital, the shouts 
of welcome broke forth. Meanwhile several arsenals, stored 
with shells, were burning. The explosions of the missiles 
mingled into one continuous roar. Even as they drew near 
the capitol itself, the populace rushed into the streets to hail 
their deliverers, or shake hands with them. In fact, their 
whole line of march within the suburbs was thronged with 
men, women, and boys, colored and white, all shouting wel- 
come. The excitement was intense. Old men, gray, and 



THE STARS AND STRIPES OYER RICHMOND. 153 



scarred with, many battles, acted the part of boys, hurrahing 
and yelling at the top of their voices. Meanwhile, the male 
negroes were bowing down to the ground, and the sable 
matrons chorusing with all their strength of lungs, " Bress 
de Lord ! de year ob jubilee hab come !" 

When near the foot of Shockoe Hill, the high, abrupt ele- 
vation, whose front is crowned by the capitol, Lieutenant de 
Peyster spurred on through the promiscuous throng up to 
the capitol itself. This building, the most conspicuous object 
in Richmond, owes every thing to its size and position, since 
neither the architecture nor the material corresponds with 
the site and proportions. The front, with its Ionic colon- 
nade, looked down upon the business part of the city, which 
was all ablaze. The rear faced the fashionable quarter of 
Richmond, an elevated plain, considered the most eligible 
locality for private residences. The capitol had ^ two flag- 
staffs, one at either end of the roof. Upon the front one an 
enormous rebel flag had been displayed, which, when not 
extended by the wind, trailed down to the steps below. This 
had been torn down, and had been partially rent into thou- 
sands of pieces, to be preserved as mementoes of the occasion. 
Upon the staff in the rear, in full sight of the domiciles of the 
magnates and sympathizers, " the first real American flag" 
was raised by Lieutenant de Peyster. 

That flag which had been consigned to his care for that 
•very purpose, which he had carried into the city buckled to 
his saddle, which had floated in like triumph over the Ores 
cent City of the south, the first real American flag hoisted 
over the rebel capitol, was raised by a Dutchess county officer, 
aged eighteen, in the presence of Captain Langdon, chief of 
artillery to the staff of Major-General Weitzel. As it rose 
aloft, displayed itself, and steadily streamed out in the strong 



154 THE STARS AND STRIPES OYER RICHMOND. 



gale, which was filling the air with fiery flakes from the adja- 
cent conflagration, it was hailed with deafening shouts by the 
redeemed populace, who swarmed the open space below and 
around. 

A short time before this real flag-raising, Major Atherton 
H. Stevens, of the fourth Massachusetts cavalry, and Major 
E. Graves, of General "Weitzel's staff, had elevated or hoisted 
two cavalry guidons, small swallow-tailed flags, with the 
staffs to which they were attached. These were so small that 
they were scarcely visible, if visible at all, from the streets 
below. Moreover, it should be remembered that there is a 
vast difference, as to honor and possession, between planting 
these, and hoisting a United States flag, the true emblem and 
act of occupation and triumph. Therefore, as conceded, to 
Lieutenant de Peyster belongs the historic glory of being the 
first to run up " the first real American flag," selected and 
carried in by him for that very purpose, over the chief build- 
ing of a city pre-eminently the stronghold and seat of life of 
the rebellion. 

That this hoisting the flag was not attended with great 
peril, detracts in no manner whatever from the merit of the 
achievement, inasmuch as, when it occurred, a letter dated, 
" March 28, in the Field," had already been received in New 
York, stating that Lieutenant de Peyster was pledged to his 
general, if Eichmond were taken, " to put a certain flag on 
the house of Jefferson Davis, or on the rebel capitol, or perish 
in the attempt." Every thing was perfectly prepared for an 
intended assault when General Shepley and his aid discov- 
ered that the works which they were ready to storm had 
been abandoned. 

Having, amid gale, tumult, and triumph, drank upon the 
roof to the success of our arms, the young aid-de-camp went 



THE STARS AND STRIPES OYER RICHMOND. 155 



do wd into the private room of Jefferson Davis in the custom- 
house, at the foot of the hill, and thence wrote a letter de- 
scribing the entrance of the loyal army, which reached New 
York the same day (April 6), on which the Commercial 
Advertiser published a telegram from its own correspondent, 
stating that " to Lieutenant G. [should be J.] L. de Peyster 
and to General Shepley belong the honor of hoisting our 
flag on the capitol" of Eichmond. This was corroborated by 
the correspondent of the New York Herald, dated " Herald 
Booms, Richmond, Virginia, April 11, three P.M." Pub- 
lished 13th, A. M. 

Lieutenant de Peyster was subsequently quartered in the 
residence of Jefferson Davis. He describes the house as a 
perfect gem, as to interior arrangements, although the exte- 
rior was altogether unattractive. The furniture was magnifi- 
cent — rosewood the predominant material. Large pierglasses 
were to be found in every room. Some of the mirrors were 
enormous. The floors were covered with splendid carpets 
so thick that the foot actually sunk into their rich material. 
All this lavish expenditure was made in accordance with the 
acts of the rebel or Confederate Congress, while the people 
were naked and starving, and their army in want of shoes. 

At the age of sixteen, Lieutenant de Peyster greatly 
assisted in raising a company for the regiment of Colonel 
Cowles. Almost all the recruits from the northern district 
of the town of Eed Hook and adjacent, were due to his exer- 
tions and the contributions of his relations and connections. 

Although he was actually in command for a few days, it 
was by some trickery he lost the fruit of his labors. Colonel 
Cowles expressed a very high opinion of him as an officer, 
and regretted that he could not retain him. In the spring of 
1864 he was mustered into the thirteenth New York artillery, 



156 



GENERAL HOOKER AND THE BRIGADIER. 



and appointed post adjutant to Major Hasler's battalion. 
Thence he was transferred to the staff of Brigadier-General 
Shepley, military governor of Norfolk, afterwards chief of 
staff to General Weitzel before Eichmond, and first loyal 
military governor of the rebel capital. 

On the 28th of June, Lieutenant de Peyster received official 
notice that his Excellency, Governor Fenton, in pursuance 
of the extraordinary powers vested in him by the legislature 
the last winter, had breveted him a " lieutenant-colonel for 
his meritorious conduct as a New York volunteer in the ser 
vice of the United States, and for raising the first national 
ensign over the capitol in Richmond, Yirginia, after the 
insurgents were driven therefrom." 



HOW GENERAL HOOKER TALKED TO A CAYAL- 
' RY BRIGADIER. 

Said he, to a brigadier of cavalry, " I know the South, and 
I know the North. In point of skill, of intelligence, and of 
pluck, the rebels will not compare with our men, if they are 
equally well led. Our soldiers are a better quality of men. 
They are better fed, better clothed, better armed, and infinitely 
better mounted ; for the rebels are fully half mounted on 
mules, and their animals get but two rations of forage per 
week, while ours get seven. Now, with such soldiers, and 
such a cause as we have behind them — the best cause since 
the world began — we ought to be invincible, and, by — , sir, 
we shallbel You have got to stop those disgraceful cavalry 
' surprises.' Ill have no more of them. I give you full power 
over your officers, to arrest, cashier, shoot — whatever you 



THE SURRENDER OF YICKSBURG. 



15V 



will — only you must stop these 1 surprises.' And, by — , sir, 
if you don't do it, I give you fair notice, I will relieve the 
whole of you, and take the command of the cavalry myself!" 



THE SURRENDER OF YICKSBURG-. 

A correspondent gives the following interesting particu- 
lars of the surrender of the city : — 

" As melancholy a sight as ever man witnessed, for brave 
men conquered and humbled, no matter how vile the cause 
for which they fight, present always a sorrowful spectacle ; 
and these foes of ours, traitors and enemies of liberty and 
civilization though they be, are brave, as many a harcl-fo light 
field can attest. They marched oat of their intrenchmcnts 
by regiments upon the grassy declivity immediately outside 
their fort ; they stacked their arms, hung their colors upon 
the centre, laid off their knapsacks, belts, cartridge-boxes, and 
cap-pouches, and thus shorn of the accoutrements of the 
soldier, returned inside their w r orks, and thence down the 
Jackson road into the city. The meu went through the cere- 
mony with that downcast look so touching on a soldier's face; 
not a word was spoken ; there was none of that gay badinage 
we are so much accustomed to hear from the ranks of regi- 
ments marching through our streets ; the few words of com- 
mand necessary were given by their own officers in that low 
tone of voice we hear used at funerals. Generals McPherson, 
Logan, and Forney, attended by their respective staffs, stood 
on the rebel breastworks, overlooking a scene never before 
witnessed on this continent. The rebel troops, as to clothing, 
presented that varied appearance, so familiar in the North 



158 



THE SURRENDER OF VICKSBURG. 



from seeing prisoners, and were from Texas, Alabama, Missis- 
sippi, Louisiana, Georgia, and Missouri; the arms were 
mostly muskets and rifles of superior excellence, and I saw- 
but very few shot-guns, or indiscriminate weapons of any 
kind ; it was plain that Pemberton had a splendidly-appointed 
army. Their flags were of a kind new to me ; all I saw being 
cut in about the same dimensions as our regimental colors, all 
of the single color, red, with a white cross in the centre. 

" The ceremony of stacking arms occupied a little over an 
hour upon that part of the lines ; and, when it was concluded, 
the glittering cavalcade of officers, Federal and rebel, mounted, 
and swept cityward, on the full gallop, through such clouds 
of dust as I hope never to ride through again. A few 
minutes, fortunately, brought us to a halt at a house, on the 
extreme outskirts of the city, built of stone, in the southern 
fashion, with low roof and wide verandas, and almost hidden 
from view, in an exuberance of tropical trees, and known as 
Forney's headquarters. 

u And here were gathered all the notables of both armies. 
In a damask-cushioned armed rocking-chair, sat Lieutenant- 
General Pemberton, the most discontented-looking man I 
ever saw. Presently there appeared in the midst of the 
throng a man, small in stature, heavily set, stoop-shouldered, 
a broad face, covered with a short, sandy beard, habited in a 
plain suit of blue flannel, with the two stars upon his shoulder, 
denoting a major-general in the United States army. He 
approached Pemberton, and entered into conversation with 
him ; there was no vacant chair near, but neither Pemberton 
nor any of his generals offered him a seat ; and thus for five 
minutes the conqueror stood talking to the vanquished seated, 
when Grant turned away into the house, and left Pemberton 
alone, with his pride or his grief — it was hard to tell which. 



INCIDENTS OF SHILOE. 



159 



Grant has the most impassive of faces, and seldom, if ever, are 
his feelings photographed upon his countenance ; but there 
was then, as he contemplanted the result of his labors, the 
faintest possible trace of inward satisfaction peering out of his 
cold gray eyes. All this occupied less time than this recital 
of it; and, meantime, officers of both armies were commingled 
conversing as sociably as if they had not been aiming at each 
other's lives a few hours before. Generals McPherson and 
Logan now turned back toward our camps to bring in the 
latter's division; and a party, specially detailed, galloped 
cityward, about a mile distant, for the purpose of hoisting the 
flag over the court-house. 

"Lieutenant-Colonel William E. Strong, assisted by Ser- 
geant B. F. Dugan, fourth company Ohio Independent Cavalry, 
and followed by a numerous throng of officers, soldiers, and 
civilians, ascended to the cupola of the court-house; and at 
half-past eleven o'clock on the fourth of July, 1863, flung out 
our banner of beauty and glory to the breeze." 



INCIDENTS OF SHILOH. 

Early on Monday morning, General Nelson dispatched 
an orderly from a cavalry company to the river with a mes- 
sage. The general waited in vain for an answer, and the day 
wore away without hearing from the messenger. General 
Nelson was furious, and directed, the following day, a search 
to be made for the orderly. He was, after sorrn trouble, 
found and taken immediately to headquarters. He was 
called upon for as account, and said, in a brief, off-hand 
manner, that when he got to the river, he found several 



160 



GEN. ROSECRANS AND PAT'S FURLO'. 



thousand skulkers, and six hundred of these agreed to go 
into action if they could find a leader. The young cavalry- 
man promptly offered himself, and as promptly led the men 
into the hottest of the fight. He reported to General Crit- 
tenden, was assigned a position which he maintained all day, 
losing from his impromptu command ten men killed and fifty 
wounded. The general was so well pleased with the young 
man and his gallant conduct, that he immediately sent his 
name to General Buell, and instead of being a private, he is 
now a commissioned officer. 

A begrimed individual, face several shades blacker than 
the ace of spades, and continually deepening in color from a 
contact with powder, hurriedly ran up to Captain Pick 
Eassell and asked for a few rounds of cartridges. "Give 
me some, for God's sake, captain ; right down here I have a 
bully place, and every time I fire, down goes a secesher." 
He was accommodated, and while the captain was filling his 
cartridge-box, the fellow was loading his piece. After being 
supplied, he dashed to the left and disappeared in the woods. 
A roar of musketry in the direction he took was kept up all 
day, but whether he escaped or not has not been ascertained. 



GENERAL EQSECEANS AND PAT'S FUELO'. 

General Eosecrans was reviewing the lamented Briga- 
dier-General Nelson's old division. He took unusual interest 
in that band of veterans, who so long and so nobly had de- 
fended their country. He rode along alone between the 
ranks, talking to the men, and inquiring into their individual 
wants. Some wanted shoes, some blankets, some an increase 



A SCENE IN WAR. 



161 



of rations, etc. Finally the general stopped in front of an 
Irishman, apparently well pleased with his soldierly appear- 
ance. 

" Well, Pat," says the general, " and what do you want ?" 
"A furlo\ plase your honor /" answered Pat. 
"You'll do, Pat!" said the general, as he rode away, 
laughing. 



A SCENE IN WAK. 

Chaplain Quint relates the following painful episode in 
war : — ■ 

"It was a military execution. The person thus punished 
belonged to the third Maryland. His crime was desertion. 
It was his second offence. For the first he had been sentenced 
only to three months' labor and loss of pay ; for the second, 
death ! 

" While the amy was passing through Frederick, Mary- 
land, he had got out of camp. His regiment passed on, and 
he went to Baltimore. Arrested there, he was returned to 
the army, was Gonvicted, and was sentenced. 

" On Tuesday his sentence was formally read to him. He 
was to be shot to death with musketry on the next Friday, 
between the hours of noon and four p. M. But he had learned 
the decision on the Sunday before. 

"There is no chaplain to the third Maryland regiment. 
But Chaplain Welsh, of the fifth Connecticut, in the same 
brigade, ministered to him in spiritual matters faithfully, and 
like himself, day by day. At last it [ell to me to see him, and 
to be with him during most of hh remaining hours. But 
11 



162 



A SCENE IN WAR. 



what could be done, in the way of instruction, had been-done 
bj Mr. Welsh, and for it the man was grateful. 

" The day of his execution was wet and gloomy. I found 
him in the morning in the midst of the provost guard. He 
was sitting on a bag of grain, leaning against a tree, while a 
sentry, with fixed bayonet, stood behind, never turning away 
from him, and never to turn away, save as another took his 
place, until the end. Useless seemed the watch, for arms and 
feet had been secured, though not painfully, since the sentence 
was read. 

"The captain of the guard had humanely done all he 
could, and it was partly by his request that I was there. A 
chaplain could minister where others could not be allowed. 

"The rain fell silently on him. The hours of his life 
were numbered — even the minutes. He was to meet death, 
not in the shock and excitement of battle ; not as a martyr 
for his country ; not in disease ; but in full health, and as a 
criminal. 

" I have seen many a man die, and have tried to perform 
the sacred duties of my station. I have never had so painful 
a task as that, because of these circumstances. Willingly, 
gladly, he conversed, heard, and answered. What he said is, 
of course, not a matter for publicity ; for the interviews of a 
minister with the one with whom he has official relations are 
sacred everywhere. Yet, while painful is such a work, it 
has its bright side, because of the 'exceeding great and 
precious promises ' it is one's privilege to tell. 

" When the time came for removal to the place of execu- 
tion, he entered an ambulance, a chaplain accompanying him. 
Next, in another ambulance, was the coffin. Before, behind, 
and on either side, a guard. Half a mile of this sad journey 
brought him to within a short distance of the spot. Theo 



A SCENE IN WAR. 



163 



.eaving the ambulance, he walked to the place selected. The 
rain had stopped. The sun was shining on the dark lines of 
the * whole division drawn up on three sides of a hollow 
square. With guard in front and rear, he passed with steady 
step through an opening left in the head of the square, still 
with the chaplain, and to the open side. There was a grave 
just dug, and in front of it was his coffin placed. He sat 
upon his coffin ; his feet were re-confined, to allow of which 
he lifted them voluntarily, and his eyes were bandaged. 

" In front of him, the firing party, of two from each regi- 
ment, were then drawn up — half held as reserve — during 
which there was still a little time for words with his chaplain. 
The general stood by, and the provost-marshal read the sen- 
tence, and shook hands with the condemned. Then a prayer 
was offered, amid uncovered heads and solemn faces. A last 
hand-shake with the chaplain, which he had twice requested ; 
a few words from him to the chaplain ; a lingering pressure 
by the hand of the condemned ; his lips moving with a 
prayer-sentence which he had been taught, and on which his 
thoughts had dwelt before, and he was left alone. 

" The word of command was immediately given. He fell 
over instantly, unconscious. A record of wounds was made 
by the surgeons. The troops filed by his grave on the banks 
of the swollen stream, and then passed off, under cover of the 
woods, as they had come, to avoid being seen by the enemy. 
And so, twenty years old, and with only a mother and sister, 
he was left there. The sun was soon covered with clouds, 
and the rain poured down on his solitary grave. 



TO CANAAN. 



TO CANAAN ! 

A SONG OF THE SIX HUNDRED THOUSAND. 

BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 

Where are you going, soldiers, 
With banner, gun, and sword ? 
Were marching south to Canaan 

To battle for the Lord ! 
What Captain leads your armies 

Along the rebel coasts ? 
The Mighty one of Israel, 
His name is Lord of Hosts ! 
To Canaan, to Canaan, 

The Lord has led us forth, 
To blow before the heathen walls, 
The trumpets of the North ! 

What flag is this you carry 
Along the sea and shore ? 
The same our grandsires lifted up, 

The same our fathers bore ! 
In many a battle's tempest 
It shed the crimson rain : 
What God has woven in his loom 
Let no man rend in twain ! 
To Canaan, to Canaan, 

The Lord has led us forth, 
To plant upon the rebel towers 
The banners of the North ! 

What troop is this that follows, 
All armed with picks and spades ? 

These are the swarthy bondsmen, 
The iron-skin brigades ! 



TO CANAAN. 



They'll pile up freedom's breastwork, 

They'll scoop out rebels' graves ; 
Who then will be their owner, 
And march them off for slaves ? 
To Canaan, to Canaan, 

The Lord has led us forth, 
To strike upon the captive's chain 
The hammers of the North ! 

What song is this you're singing ? 

The same that Israel sung, 
When Moses led the mighty choir, 

And Miriam's timbrel rung I 
To Canaan ! to Canaan ! 

The priests and maidens cried ; 
To Canaan ! to Canaan ! 
The people's voice replied. 
To Canaan, to Canaan, 

The Lord has led us forth, 
To thunder through its adder-dens 
The anthem of the North ! 

When Canaan's hosts are scattered, 

And all her walls lie flat, 
What follows next in order ? 

The Lord will see to that ! 

We'll break the tyrant's sceptre, 

We'll build the people's throne — 
When half the world is freedom's, 
Then all the world's our own ! 
To Canaan, to Canaan, 

The Lord has led us forth, 
To sweep the rebel threshing floor, 
A whirlwind from the North I 



166 



THE MARCH TO NASHVILLE. 



TEE MAECH TO NASHYILLE. 

A soldiee-weitee, on the march to Nashville, in the 
autumn of 1862, narrates the following : — 

" I engaged in a pleasant two hours' chat with General 
Rousseau, and found him an agreeable and entertaining con 
versationist. There is no compromise in him, except in the 
Union. He holds that a rebel has no rights under our consti- 
tution. Eight or ten of the gentry called on him near 
Mitchellville, and commenced using treasonable language. 
The general peremptorily ordered them to cease, as he had 
heard all he wanted of such talk. 

" ' Well, but, general, I understand you are a Kentuckian ; 
you don't go in for any abolition document like Lincoln has 
just issued, do you ?' 

lt 1 No matter, sir, what I like ; you have no right to com- 
plain.' 

" 1 Why, you don't approve of their stealing our negroes, 
do you V 

" 1 1 approve, sir, of any thing my government does to put 
down the rebellion ; and any thing you love I hate.' 

" ' Well, why don't you take our houses and lands?' 

" 1 Well, sir, if we wanted them, I go in for that, too ; take 
every thing you have, and drive you to the dominions of 
Jeff Davis, whom you love so much ; and, so far as lies in 
my power, I will drive every one of you beyond our lines, 
according to all rules of war, where you cannot do us injury 
as spies. Yes, sir, I would send you all to Jeff Davis, or 
hell.' 

"Soon after the above, a tattered specimen of gawky 
ignorance entered the general's tent. 

" 'Well, sir,' said the general, 'what will you have?' 



THE MARCH TO NASHVILLE. 



167 



" 1 1 kem over here for pertection." 

" 1 Are you a Union man ? However,' continued he, 1 you 
are all Union men now; it is scarcely worth asking the 
question.' 

" ' Well, general,' said the Tennesseean, ' I'm not an aber 
litionist ; I don't go in for — ' 

" ' 0, go to my adjutant, Captain Pohrman. I'm tired of 
such evasions. If you deserve protection, you shall have it ; 
if noo, you must accept the consequences of the calamity you 
have aided in bringing upon your own bead.' 

" I heard a good story told of a joke played off by a seces- 
sion wag, a short time since, upon General Keg-ley. A 
whisky-drinking, facetious joker, residing in the town of 
Gooletsville, a strong secesh hole, in which there never was 
but one Union man, and he died. Well, this wag wagered a 
gallon of whiskey that he could go into Nashville, and go all 
over the city, notwithstanding the strictness of General Neg- 
ley's orders ; further, that he would see Negley personally, 
and talk with him. The bet was taken, and this fellow, 
whose name is Paul, well known in Nashville as a violent 
secessionist, the next day took a flag of truce, rode into the 
city, saw crowds of his friends, rode up to the headquarters 
of General Kegley, and demanded the surrender of the city, 
stating that he was Assistant -Adjutant Paul, and that there 
was an immense quantity of troops ready to enforce the de- 
mand. General Negley refused to entertain the thought of a 
surrender, and Paul returned to Gooletsville, having won his 
bet. 

" General Negley found it out when too late. It wouldn't 
do to try that game again in Nashville." 



168 



INCIDENT AT ANTIETAM. 



INCIDENT AT ANTIETAM. 

One of the correspondents who was with the division of 
General Sturgis at the battle of Antietam gives the following 
account of the part taken by that division in the contest : — 

" Our division, under General Sturgis, were on the extrem 
left, and were not placed in line until about five o'clock p. M., 
when a double-quick movement took place, and the whole 
division started like Bengal tigers let loose for prey. They 
ran through a galling fire of shot and shell until they were 
within reach of the enemy's musketry, when a heavy fire 
opened on us, which General Nagle (commanding our bri- 
gade) saw at once would decimate the brigade, and so the 
order came to charge bayonets. Promptly the glistening 
steel was placed in position ; and here one of the most bril- 
liant bayonet charges took place that has been seen during 
the war. The brigade had to charge up hill, over stone 
walls and other obstructions, and met the enemy at great dis- 
advantage. The Massachusetts thirty-fifth regiment was put 
in order of battle, and did great execution at the first onset. 
In General ISTagle's brigade and Sturgis' division was also the 
ninth regiment New Hampshire volunteers, Colonel Fellows, 
one of the most experienced colonels in the army. It was a 
handsome sight to see him put his regiment into action. 
When the clear, sonorous order came from Colonel Fellows, 
1 Charge bayonets !' every eye gleamed in the £ Bloody Ninth,' 
as the brigade now called the regiment. Every man threw 
away his knapsack, blanket, and haversack, and leaped over a 
stone wall six feet high with a yell that fairly sent terror 
through the rebel ranks opposite. With eyes gleaming with 
joy and determination, and every bayonet fixed, they charged 
up the hill and through the corn-field at double-quick with a 



HOW A CAPTAIN WAS CAPTURED. 



169 



yell of perfect triumph. Colonel Fellows and Lieutenant- 
Colonel Titus astonished the old veterans in the service by 
the manner in which they brought the ninth New Hampshire 
volunteers into the action. It was a grand and magnificent 
sight, and one seldom seen in battle. The rebels fled before 
them, and every rebel regiment bioke and ran. General 
Eeno fell beside the ninth New Hampshire volunteers and 
the thirty-fifth Massachusetts about dark, just in the moment 
of victory." 



ANECDOTE OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 

Some one was smoking in the presence of the President, 
and complimented him on having no vices, neither drinking 
nor smoking. " That is a doubtful compliment," answered 
the President. " I recollect once being outside a stage in 
Illinois, and a man sitting by me offered me a cigar. I told 
him I had no vices. He said nothing, smoked for some 
time, and then grunted out, 1 It's my experience that folks 
who have no vices have plagu^ few virtues.' " 



HOW A CAPTAIN WAS CAPTURED. 

" I was officer of the guard, on as bright a July day as 
ever dawned on creation; and though it was oppressively 
warm, as early as guard mounting, eight o'clock, yet that 
interesting ceremony had passed off magnificently, and I was 
preparing to go the grand rounds immediately after the call 
for the second relief, when Lieutenant H. ; the old officer of 



170 



HOTT A CAPTAIN WAS CAPTURED. 



the guard, sent his respects, with an earnest request for me 
to call on him at his marque'e for special consultation. 
'H — 1 is brewing at post number twelve/ said he, as he took 
me by the hand, ' and this fellow will tell you what he saw 
there ; and you may rely upon trouble there before to-mor 
row.' ' An' I saw nothing at all, at all, but a ghost sure,' 
said the Irish soldier ; ' it came out of the hill forenent the 
old graveyard, shook its fist at me as it passed, and went into 
the bush towards the fort.' 

" 'How did it look?' inquired H. 

" 1 Look ? indade, how should it look, but like a woman 
draped in white, with eyes of fire ?' 

"An hour after, I was carefullv searching the ground in 
the vicinity of post number twelve, when my ears were sa- 
luted with the well-known cry of, ' Buy any pies 'n' cakes ? — 
all clean and new ; twenty-five cents for the pies, two cakes 
for a penny.' 

" ' Where is your pa^s, my good lady, if you are a camp 
follower ; and why are you here among the rocks and 
bushes, if you wish to sell your marketing?' said G. 

" ' I am the honest wife of Pat Maloney, of the fourteenth 
Maryland, and sthopped here to rest me weary limbs afther 
coming five miles down from me home in the hill, your 
honor !' 

" 'Yery likely,' said I; 'but you will please march down 
to the camp, and submit to a slight inspection of your basket 
and papers, if you have any.' 

1 ' I have no papers, sir ; and why should you put a loyal 
woman, and a wife of a Union soldier, to this trouble, bad 
luck till ye ?' 

u ' You will not be harmed, madam. If you are a loyal 
woman, as you say, you will see the propriety of so doing.' 



HOW A CAPTAIN "WAS CAPTURED. 171 



u Cakes and pies, sure enough, but no papers ; and I began 
to believe that there was no connection between her and 
Pat's ' ghost;' but why should she wear a pair of men's 
boots ? 

" ' Och, these were the boots me husband wore before he 
'listed, sure!' 

"And so the captain, somewhat given to gallantry, volun- 
teered to accompany her to her friends, two miles toward 
her 'home in the hill,' where she was to give positive proof 
that she was 1 neither a spy nor a ghost.' And away they 
went, a single soldier only accompanying them, amid the 
ill-suppressed laughter of the regiment. 

"Noon, one o'clock, two o'clock, and no tidings of the 
captain! What was to be done? A squadron of cavalry 
was ordered to dash up the hill, reconnoitre, and report. 
And then time wore heavily away for an hour, when the 
cavalry charged into camp and up to headquarters, when 
instantly the long roll was beat, and in five minutes the 
regiment was under arms in line of battle. A perfect si- 
lence ensued, and the adjutant read the following note : 

" 1 Colonel D. : I am willing to exchange the pies, cakes 
and basket for the soldier and the d — d fool captain whom 1 
caught with crinoline. Pedlers and ghosts are at a premium 
in these parts just now. Yours, in haste, 

" Bland, First Lieutenant C. S. A.' 

" The soldier's musket was found four miles from camp, 
with the note from the woman lieutenant sticking on the 
point of the bayonet ; and so the captain was captured." 



172 



ANECDOTE OF GENERAL GRANT. 



ANECDOTE OF GEK GKANT. 

JSTo small pains were taken by certain partisan leaders 
while General Grant was at Yicksburg, to inveigle him into 
some debate, or the expression of some definite idea or 
opinion relative to the state of the various political parties 
of the country, and their professed tenets. The general, 
however, was not thus to be drawn out. He had never 
attached himself to any mere partisan organization, and all 
the various political issues or questions were, to him, entirely 
subordinate to the great and single object of crushing the 
rebellion. 

While operating in the vicinity of Yicksburg, his pro- 
fessed political friends paid a visit to his headquarters, and 
after a short time spent in compliments, they touched upon 
the never-ending subject of politics. One of the party was 
in the midst of a very flowery speech, using all his rhetorical 
powers to induce the general, if possible, to view matters in 
the same light as himself, when he was suddenly stopped by 
Grant. 

"There is no use of talking politics to me. I know 
nothing about them, and, furthermore, I do not know of any 
person among my acquaintances who does. But," continued 
he, "there is one subject with which I am perfectly ac- 
quainted ; talk of that, and I am your man." 

" What is that, general ?" asked the politicians, in great 
surprise. 

" Tanning leather," was the reply. 
The subj ect was immediately changed, 



GENERAL GKANT DEFINES HIS POSITION. 



173 



A PENITENT FELLOW. 

Colonel Gillem was one day reprimanding one of his 
soldiers, who was slightly intoxicated at the time. After the 
colonel had concluded, the soldier remarked, "Yez wuddint 
have occasion to talk of me so ef I had a pistol." The 
colonel, much astonished, asked, " Well, sir, what would you 
do if you had a pistol ?" a Why, I'd shoot — myself, sir." 



GENERAL GRANT DEFINES HIS POSITION. 

General Grant was one day busy with his military plans, 
in the inner part of his tent. His maps, rules, and compasses, 
weie all in use. His mind ranged over the vast extent of 
country under his control. Mountains were scaled, rivers 
forded, swamps bridged, deserts traversed, forests threaded, 
storms and sunshine were overcome, and he was master of 
the situation. He was just laying out his plan of a projected 
battle, intensely occupied with the marshalling of his troops, 
in their best positions for victory, when his ear caught the 
inquiry, put to his orderly, in a strong, foreign accent : — 

" Is de generawl in ?" 

Then came the reply, in a firm, decided tone, which Gene- 
ral Grant understood instantly — 

" Yes, sir, the commanding general is in ; but he is very 
busy, sir." 

"Could I zee him a few momenz ?" 

" He ordered me to say, sir, that he would be very much 
occupied for some time." 

" On de advance, eh?" interrupted the intruder. "Den he 
is going down furder to de cotton regione ?" 



174 



THE CAPTURE OF FORT M'ALLISTER. 



" I can't say where he is going, sir ; I don't know. Y ot> 
must leave." 

Stranger became more excited, and his accent more peculiar. 

"Mine young vrend, I have one important proposals to 
make de generawl, — a proposals, mine young vrend" — 

" I can't hear your 1 proposal.' Step out, sir !" 

"Sdop, mine young vrend, — sdop one letle momend. You 
zay to de generawl dat I will make it one gran' objecs for 
'im — one rich speculation! You understan', eh?" 

The orderly was about to force the base interloper out, with 
an added word of military admonition, when General Grant 
came quickly forward. He had heard the whole conversa- 
tion, and comprehended the entire case in a moment. It was 
a covert assault on his nice sense of honor, and he was deter- 
mined to punish it on the spot. Stepping to the open front 
of his tent, the general seized the rascally operator by the 
collar, and, lifting him several inches from the ground, applied 
the toe of his boot to him in such a manner that he was 
pitched out headlong, falling on the muddy ground, at a 
distance of nearly ten feet. Before the orderly could recover 
from his surprise, the general had quietly retired to his inner 
apartment, and the next moment was as busily engaged with 
his maps, and plan of campaign, as if nothing had happened. 



sherman watching the capture of fort 
McAllister. 

On" the evening of the 12th of December, 1864, General 
Howard, commanding one of the wings of Sherman's grand 
army, in Georgia, relieved Hazen's second division of the 



THE CAPTURE OF FORT m'ALLISIER. 



175 



fifteenth corps, by a part of the seventeenth, and threw it 
across the Little Ogeechee, toward the Great Ogeechee, with 
the view of crossing it to Ossabaw island, and reducing Fort 
McAllister, which held the river. The Confederates had de- 
stroyed King's bridge, across the Great Ogeechee, and this 
had to be repaired. Captain Reese, topographical engineer 
of Howard's staff, with the Missouri engineers, prepared the 
timber, and bridged the one thousand feet of river during the 
night ; and, on the morning of the 13th, Hazen crossed, and 
moved toward the point where Fort McAllister obstructed 
the river. Kilpatrick, in the meantime, had moved down to 
St. Catharine's Sound, opened communication with the fleet, 
and asked permission to storm Fort McAllister; but Sher- 
man did not give his consent, considering it questionable 
whether the cavalry, with its poor facilities and small supply 
of artillery, could succeed. 

Hazen made his arrangements to storm the fort on the 
afternoon of the 13th; Generals Sherman and Howard being 
at Cheroe's rice mill, on the Ogeechee, opposite Fort McAllis- 
ter. Sherman was on the roof of the mill, surrounded by his 
staff and signal officers, Beckley and Cole, waiting to commu- 
nicate with Hazen, on the island. While patiently waiting 
for Hazen's signals, Sherman's keen eye detected smoke in 
the horizon, seaward. Up to this time he had received no 
intelligence from the fleet. In a moment the countenance of 
the bronzed chieftain lightened up, and he exclaimed : — 

" Look, Howard ; there is the gunboat I" 

Time passed on, and the vessel now became visible, yet no 
signal from the fleet or Hazen. Half an hour passed, and 
the guns of the fort opened simultaneously, with puffs of 
smoke that rose a few hundred yards from the fort, showing 
that Hazen's skirmishers had opened. A moment after, Hazen 
signaled — 



176 



THE CAPTURE OF FORT M'ALLISTER. 



" I have invested the fort, and will assault immediately." 
At this moment, Beckley announces, "A signal from the 
gunboat." All eyes are turned from the fort to the gunboat 
that is coming to their assistance with news from home. A 
few messages pass, which apprise that Foster and Dahlgren 
are within speaking distance. The gunboat now halts and 
asks — 

" Can we run up ? Is Fort McAllister ours ?" 
"No," is the reply; "Hazen is just ready to storm it. Can 
you assist ?" 

" Yes," is the reply. " What will you have us do ?" 

But before Sherman can reply to Dahlgren, the thunders 
of the fort are heard, and the low sound of small arms is 
borne across the three miles of marsh and river. Field 
glasses are opened, and, sitting flat upon the roof, the hero of 
Atlanta gazes away off to the fort. " There they go, grandly — 
not a waver," he remarks. 

Twenty seconds pass, and again he exclaims : — 

" See that flag in the advance, Howard ; how steadily it 
moves ; not a man falters. * * There they go still ; see 
the roll of musketry. Grand, grand." 

Still he strained his eyes, and a moment after spoke, with - 
out raising his eyes — 

" That flag still goes forward ; there is no flinching there.' 1 

A pause for a minute. 

" Look !" he exclaims, " it has halted. They waver — no ! 
it's the parapet! There they go again; now they scale it* 
some are over. Look ! there's a flag on the works ! Another, 
another. It is ours ! The fort's ours !" 

The glass dropped by his side ; and in an instant the 
joy of the great leader at the possession of the river and the 
opening of the road to his new base burst forth in words : — 



GENERAL LOGAN AND THE IRISHMAN. 177 



"As the old darkey remarked, dis chile don't sleep dis 
night!" — and turning to one of his aids, Captain Auderied, 
he remarked, " Have a boat for me at once ; I must go there !" 
— pointing to the fort, from which half a dozen battle-flags 
floated grandly in the sunset. 

And well might William Tecumseh Sherman rejoice, for 
here, as the setting sun went down on Fort McAllister re- 
duced, and kissed a fond good-night to the starry banner, 
Sherman witnessed the culmination of all his plans and 
marches, that had involved such desperate resistance and 
risk — the opening up of a new and shorter route to his base* 
Here, at sunset, on the memorable 13th of December, tb^ 
dark waters of the Great Ogeechee bore witness to the fulfil- 
ment of the covenant made with his iron heroes at Atlanta, 
twenty-nine days before, to lead them victorious to a new base. 



GEKEKAL LOGAN AND THE IRISHMAN. 

Just before the capture of Savannah, General Logan, with 
two or three of his staff, entered the depot at Chicago one 
fine morning, to take the cars east, on his way to rejoin his 
command. The general being a short distance in advance of 
the others, stepped upon the platform of a car, and was about 
to enter it, but was stopped by an Irishman with : 

" Ye'll not be goin' in there." 

" Why not, sir ?" asked the general. 

" Because them's a leddies' caer, and no gentleman'll be 
goin' in there without a leddy. There's wan sate in that caer 
over there, ef yees want it," at the same time pointing to it 
12 



178 



GOOD JOKE ON A CHAPLAIN. 



" Yes," replied the general, " I see there is one seat, but 
what shall I do with my staff?" 

" 0, bother yer staff!" was the petulant reply. " Go yon 
and take the sate, and stick ver staff out of the windy." 



GOOD JOKE ON A CHAPLAIN. 

There was a joke — though possibly a wicked one — perpe- 
trated on a certain chaplain in the army, which ought not to 
be lost to the clerical portion of the world. It was the chap- 
lain's business to look after the regimental mail. This chap- 
lain, however, had been annoyed exceedingly by the great 
number of warriors who were constantly running to him and 
inquiring about the arrival and departure of mails. To save 
time and patience, the testy official at last posted a notice out- 
side his tent, which read : " The chaplain does not know 
when the mail will go," and with this he imagined his trou- 
bles at an end. The reverend postmaster was absent from 
the camp that day, and on returning and glancing at his 
notice, was horrified to see there, conspicuously written upon 
his own door, read by multitudes during the day, in a hand 
exactly counterfeiting his, following the words : " The chap- 
lain does not know when the mail will go" — this addition by 
some honest wretch : " Neither does he care a damn" It was a 
case of depravity the obliging and godly man was unprepared 
for — but, perhaps, he and his warriors were now "quits." 



SHERIDAN RIDING TO THE FRONT. 179 



SHERIDAN RIDING- TO THE FRONT. 

The victory gained by General Sheridan at Cedar Creek, 
Virginia, October 19th, 1864, surpassed in interest the vic- 
tory gained precisely one month earlier at Winchester. It 
was a victory following upon the heels of apparent reverse, 
and, therefore, reflecting peculiar credit on the brave com- 
mander to whose timely arrival upon the field the final suc- 
cess of the day must be attributed. 

The general was at Winchester in the early morning when 
the enemy attacked — fifteen miles distant from the field of 
operations. General Wright was in command. The enemy 
had approached under cover of a heavy fog, and flanking the 
extreme right of the Federal line, held by Crook's corps, and 
attacking in the centre, had thrown the entire line into con- 
- fusion, and driven it several miles. : The stragglers to the 
rear were fearfully numerous, and the enemy was pushing 
on, turning against the Federals a score of guns already cap- 
tured from them. 

This was the situation a little before noon when Sheridan 
came on the field, riding, said one of his staff, so that the 
devil himself could not have kept up. A staff officer meet- 
ing him, pronounced the situation of the army to be " awful." 

" Pshaw," said Sheridan, "it's nothing of the sort. It's all 
right, or we'll fix it right I" 

Sheridan hastened to his cavalry on the extreme left. 
Galloping past the batteries to the extreme left of the line 
held by the cavalry, he rode to the front, took off his hat and 
waved it, while a cheer went up from the ranks not less 
hearty and enthusiastic than that which greeted him after the 
battle of Winchester. Generals rode out to meet him, offi- 
cers waved their swords, men threw up their hats in an 



ISO 



SHERIDAN RIDING TO THE FRONT. 



extremity of glee. General Custer, discovering Sheridan at 
the moment he arrived, rode up to him, threw his arms 
around his neck, and kissed him on the cheek. Waiting for 
no other parley than simply to exchange greeting, and to 
say, " This retreat must be stopped I" Sheridan broke loose 
and began galloping down the lines, along the whole front of 
the army. Everywhere the enthusiasm caused by his appear- 
ance was the same. 

The line was speedily reformed ; provost-marshals brought 
in stragglers by the scores ; the retreating army turned its 
face to the foe. An attack just about to be made by the 
latter was repulsed, and the tide of battle turned. Then 
Sheridan's time was come. A cavalry charge was ordered 
against right and left flank of the enemy, and then a grand 
advance of the three infantry corps from left to right on the 
enemy's centre. On through Middletown, and beyond, the 
Confederates hurried, and the army of the Shenandoah pur- 
sued. The roar of musketry now had a gleeful, dancing 
sound. The guns fired shotted salutes of victory. Custer 
and Merritt, charging in on right and left, doubled up the 
flanks of the foe> taking prisoners, slashing, killing, driving 
as they went. The march of the infantry was more majestic 
and terrible. The lines of the foe swayed and broke before it 
everywhere. Beyond Middletown, on the battle-field fought 
over in the morning, their columns were completely over- 
thrown and disorganized. They fled along the pike and over 
the fields like sheep. 

Thus on through Strasburg with two brigades of cavalry at 
their heels. Two thousand prisoners were gathered together, 
though there was not a sufficient guard to send them all to the 
rear. The guns lost in the morning were recaptured, and as 
many more taken, making fifty in all, and according to Sher' 



JOHN BROWNS SONG. 



181 



dan's report, the enemy reached Mount Jackson without an 
organized regiment. The scene at Sheridan's headquarters 
at night, after the battle, was wildly exciting. General Cus- 
ter arrived about nine o'clock. The first thing he did was 
to hug General Sheridan with all his might, lifting him in 
the air, and whirling him around and around, with the shout 
" By — , we've cleaned them out and got the guns !" Catch 
ing sight of General Torbert, Custer went through the same 
proceeding with him, until Torbert was forced to cry out : 
" There, there, old fellow ; don't capture me !" 

Sheridan's ride to the front, October 19th, 1864, will go 
down in history as one of the most important and exciting 
events which have ever given interest to a battle scene ; and 
to this event is to be attributed the victory of the day. 



JOHN BROWN'S SONG. 

John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave ; 
John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave ; 
John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave ; 
His soul is marching on ! 

Cho7~us — Glory, halle — hallelujah ! 

Glory, halle — hallelujah I 
Glory, halle — hallelujah! 
His soul is marching on! 

He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord ! 
He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord ! 
He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord ! 
His soul is marching on ! 
Glorv, halle — halleluiah ! etc. 



JOHN BROWN'S SONG. 



John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back ! 
John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back! 
John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back I 
His soul is marching on ! 
Glory, halle — hallelujah ! etc. 

The pet lambs and angels will meet him on the way, 
The pet lambs and angels will meet him on the way, 
The pet lambs and angels will meet him on the way, 
As they go marching on ! 
Glory, halle — hallelujah ! etc. 

We'll hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple-tree ! 
We'll hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple-tree ! 
Well hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple-tree ! 
As we go marching on 1 
Glory, halle — hallelujah ! etc. 

Now, three rousing cheers for the Union ! 
Now, three rousing cheers for the Union I 
Now, three rousing cheers for the Union! 

As we are marching on ! 
Glory, halle — hallelujah ! etc. 

Hip, hip, hip, hip, hurrah 1 



PART II. 



THE BLUE COATS IN THE HOSPITAL, WITH SKETCHES AM) 
INCIDENTS OF THE CHRISTIAN COMMISSION, 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES, ETC., ETC. 



BIDE OF THE WOUNDED BRIGADE. 

They were loaded upon the train ; two platform cars were 
paved with them, forty on a car. Seven cars were so packed 
you could not set your foot down among them as they lay. 
The roofs of the cars were tiled with them, and away we 
pounded, all day, all night, into the next morning, and then 
Nashville. Half of the boys had not a shred of a blanket, 
and it rained steadily, pitilessly. "What do you think of 
platform cars for a triumphal procession wherein to bear 
wounded heroes, to the tune of <£ The Soldier's Eeturn from 
the War?" But the stores of the Sanitary Commission and 
the gifts of such ladies as are now, I believe, making your 
city a Bethel — a place of angels — kept the boys' hearts up 
through all those weary, drizzling hours. 

It is midnight, and the attendants are going through . the 
train with coffee, graced with milk and sugar — think of that 

183 



184 



RIDE OF THE WOUNDED BRIGADE. 



— two fresh, white, crisp crackers apiece, and a little taste of 
fruit. "Did your hands prepare it, dear lady ? I hope so, for 
the little balance in your favor set down in the ledger of 
God. 

Here they come with a canteen ; will you go with them ? 
climb through that window into a car as black as the Hoi 
of Calcutta. But mind where you step; the floor is one 
layer deep with wounded soldiers. As you swing the lan- 
tern round, bandages show white and ghastly everywhere ; 
bandages, bandages, and now and then a rusty spot of blood. 
What worn out, faded faces look up at you ? They rouse 
like wounded creatures hunted down to their lairs as you 
come. The tin cups, extended in all sorts of hands but 
plump, strong ones, tinkle all around you. You are fairly 
girdled with the tin- cup horizon. How the dull, pale faces 
brighten as those cups are filled ! On we go, out at one 
window, in at another, stepping gingerly among mangled 
limbs. We reach the platform cars, creaking with their 
drenched, chilled, bruised burdens, and I must tell you — it's 
a shame though — that one poor fellow among them lay with 
a tattered blanket pinned around him ; he was literally sans 
cuiotte. 11 How is this ?" I said. " Haven't got my descriptive 
list — that's what's the matter," was the reply. Double al- 
lowance all around to the occupants of the platforms, and 
we retrace our steps to the rear of the train. You should 
have heard the ghost of a cheer that fluttered like a feeble 
bird as we went back. It was the most touching vote of 
thanks ever offered ; there was a little flash up of talk for a 
minute, and all subsided into silence and darkness again. 
Wearily wore the hours and heavily hammered the train. 
At intervals the guards traversed the roofs of the cars, and 
pulled in the worn-out boys that had jarred down to the 



RIDE OF THE "WOUNDED BRIGADE. 



185 



edges — pulled them in toward the middle of the cars without 
waking them! Occasionally one slips over the eaves, I am 
told, and is miserably crushed. "What a homeward march is 
all this to set a tune to ! 

By some error in apportionment, there was not quite coffee 
enough for all on deck, and two slips of boys on the roof of 
the car where I occupied a corner, were left without a drop 
"Whenever we stopped, and that was two hours here and 
three hours there, waiting for this and for that — there was no 
hurry, you know — and the side door was slid back in its 
groove, I saw two hungry faces, stretched down over the 
car's edge, and heard two feeble voices crying : " "We have 
had nothing up here since yesterday noon, we two — there are 
only us two boys — please give us something. Haven't you 
got any hard tack?" I heard that pitiful appeal to the 
officers in charge, and saw those faces till they haunted me, 
and to-day I remember those plaintive lines as if I were 
hearing a dirge. I felt in my pockets and haversack for a 
cracker, but found nothing. I really hated myself for having 
eaten my dinner, and not saved it for them. A further 
search was rewarded with six crackers from the Chicago 
Mechanical Bakery, and watching my chance when Pete's 
back was turned — the cook, and a smutty autocrat was Pete 
in his way — I took a sly dip with a basin into the coffee- 
boiler. As the car gave a lurch in the right direction, I 
called from the window, " Boys !" I heard them crawling to 
the edge, handed up the midnight supper ; " Bully for you," 
they said, and I saw them no more. When the train reached 
Nashville, and I clambered down to solid ground again, I 
looked up at the roof; it was there. God grant the boys are 
with their mothers to-night. And how do you like the ride 
of the Wounded Brigade ,s 



18(5 THE WOUNDED AFTER A BATTLE. 



THE WOUNDED AFTEK A BATTLE. 

The surgeon laid off the sash and the tinseled coat, and 
rolled up his sleeves, spread wide his cases filled up with 
the terrible glitter of silver steel, and makes ready for work. 
They begin to come in, slowly at first, one man nursing a 
shattered arm, another borne by his comrades, three in an 
ambulance, one on a stretcher — then faster and faster, lying 
here, lying there, each waiting his terrihle turn. The silver 
steel grows cloudy and lurid ; true right arms are lopped like 
slips of golden willow ; feet that never turned from the foe, 
for ever more without an owner, strew the ground. The 
knives are busy, the saws play ; it is bloody work. Ah, the 
surgeon with heart and head, with hand and eye fit for such 
a place, is a prince among men ; cool and calm, quick and 
tender, he feels among the arteries, and fingers the tendons 
as if they were harp-strings. But the cloud: thunders' and 
the spiteful rain patters louder and fiercer, and the poor 
fellows come creeping up in broken ranks, like corn beaten 
down with, the flails of the storm. 

"My God!" cried the surgeon, as looking up an instant 
from his work, he saw the mutilated crowds borne in: "my 
God ! are all my brave boys cut down !" And yet it thun- 
dered and rained. A poor fellow writhes, and a smothered 
moan escapes him. 

"Be quiet, Jack," says the surgeon, cheerfully; "I'll make 
you all right in a minute." It was a right arm to come off 
at the elbow, and " Jack" slipped off a ring that clasped one of 
the poor, useless fingers that were to blend with the earth of 
Alabama, and put it in his pocket. He was making ready 
for the "all right." Does "Alabama" mean "here we rest?" 
If so, how sad yet glorious have our boys made it, who sink- 
to rest — 



THE WOUNDED AFTER A BATTLE. 



187 



" With all their country's wishes blest t" 

Another sits up while the surgeon follows the bullet that 
Lad buried itself in his side ; it is the work of an instant ; no 
solemn council here — no lingering pause ; the surgeon is 
bathed in patriot blood to his elbows, and the work goes on. 
An eye lies out upon a ghastly cheek, and silently the suf- 
ferer bides his time. 

"Well, Charley," says the doctor, dressing his wound as he 
talks, " what's the matter ?" " Oh, not much, doctor ; only a 
hand off!" Not unlike was the answer made to me by a poor 
fellow at Bridgeport, shattered as if by lightning : — 

"How are you, now?" I said. " Butty /" w&s the reply. 
You should have heard that word as he said it ; vulgar as it 
used to seem, it grew manly and noble, and I shall never hear 
it again without a thought for the boy that uttered it, on the 
dusty slope of the Tennessee ; the boy — must I say it ? — that 
sleeps the soldier's sleep within a hundred . rods of the spot 
where I found him. 

So it is everywhere ; not a whimper nor complaint. Once 
only did I hear either. An Illinois lieutenant, as brave a 
fellow as ever drew a sword, had been shot through and 
through the thighs, fairly impaled by the bullet — the ugliest 
wound I ever saw. Eight days before he weighed one hun- 
dred and sixty. Then he could not have swung one hundred 
and twenty clear on the floor. He had just been brought 
over the mountains; his wounds were angry with fever; 
every motion was torture ; they were lifting him as tenderly 
as they could ; they let him slip, and he fell, perhaps, six 
inches. But it was like a dash from a precipice to him, and 
he wailed out like a young child, tears wet his thin, pale 
cheeks ; but he only said : " My poor child I how can they 
tell her ?" It was but for an instant ; h'i spirit and his 



188 



THE ARMY CHURCH. 



frame stiffened ap together, and, with a half-smile, he said, 
" don't tell anybody, boys, that I made a fool of myself." The 
lieutenant sleeps well, and, alas ! for the " poor child" — how 
did they tell her ? 

A soldier fairly riddled with bullets, like one of those 
battle-flags of Illinois, lay on a blanket gasping for breath. 
" Jemmy," said a comrade, and a friend before this cruel war 
began, with one arm swung up in a sling, and who was going 
home on furlough, ''Jemmy, what shall I tell them at home 
for you?" "Tell them," said he, "that there isn't hardly 
enough of me to say 1 1,' but, hold down here a minute ; say 
to Kate that there is enough of me left to love her till I die." 
Jemmy got his furlough that night, and left the ranks fc i . " :-: 



THE AEMY CHURCH. 

The account which follows is from the Rev. Mr. Alvord, 
whose self-denying labors for the soldier have so endeared 
his name to the hearts of all good people. The incident 
occurred in Virginia, during the campaign under General 
Burnside. It was a communication sent to one of the publi- 
cations of the American Tract Society : — 

There are no chapel tents now, and every thing has to be 
done usually in the open air, where but two or three can be 
gathered together. The chaplains and other Christian men 
are not inclined to spend much time in erecting any perma- 
nent buildings, as the army is constantly liable to move. 
But certain boys of the Xew York twenty -fourth (who have 
no chaplain), determined that they would have a better place 
fur their meetings. They had been held hitherto, as one of 



THE ARMY CHURCH. 



183 



them said, by the side of a stump. Two of them especially, 
although only privates, seemed almost inspired on the sub- 
ject. They obtained permission of the colonel to build a 
cabin of logs. These had to be drawn a mile, trimmed, 
framed, and piled up. The dimensions were to be sixteen by 
thirty- two feet, sufficiently large to hold a hundred and sixty 
persons. 

The first logs were heavy, and hardly any one helped 
them. Their plan at first was not very definite. They 
would lay down a log, and then look and plan by the eye. 
Another log was then wearily drawn and placed on the 
other. To most of their comrades, the affair gave occasion 
only for jests and merriment. "Are you to have it finished 
before the world ends ?" they asked. " Are you fixing up to 
leave?" " How does your saloon get on?" Even the more 
serious felt pity for them, rather than sympathy. There 
was already an order out to move. "What is the use?" 
" Who wants meetings now ?" But these two Christian 
soldiers (S. and L.) toiled on like Noah amidst the scoffs of 
the multitude. The edifice slowly rose ; volunteers lent a 
hand. The Christian men of the regiment, forty or fifty in 
all, became interested ; some of them at length aided in the 
work. The structure reached at last a proper height ; and a 
roof of brush first, and then of patched ponchos having been 
put on, the meeting began, — or rather they began when it 
was only an open pen. In a few days, Burnside's advance 
took place, and the regiment left for the field. 

In their absence, plunderers stripped the cabin, and car- 
ried off a portion of its material ; but, on the return of our 
troops, the same busy hands and hearts of faith were again 
at work. A sutler gave them the old canvas cover of his 
large tent, which he was about to cut up to serve as a shelter 



190 THE ARMT CHURCH. 



for his horses, and lo, it precisely fitted the roof of the 
meeting-house, — not an inch to spare ! This was drawn 
over the neat rafters and lashed at the edges, making a 
transparency by day, and reflecting the light most pleasantly 
by night. The boys, when they saw this, thought it almost 
a miracle ; and were hardly less pleased when the door, 
with its latch and string, was fitted so nicely in its place. 
But they had no lock as yet to preserve the interior of their 
house from depredations, and when, having inquired and 
sent everywhere for one in vain, they were out for their last 
load of poles for benches, they had to tell , me how, just upon 
their pathside in . the : forest, a lock was found with a key in 
it, all ready to be fitted to their door ! I thought myself it was 
a little strange, that far out here in Yirginia, at such a time, 
an article of this description, by just these eyes, should have 
been discovered. But I concluded that the God who had 
helped these feeble workmen to build his house could help 
them , finish it. 

Well, there it stands, a monument to his glory, and the 
credit of their perseverance. You should have seen their 
eyes shine, as, here in my tent for tracts, they were one day 
giving me its history, and you should have been with us 
last evening. The little pulpit from which I spoke is made 
of empty box boards. Two chandeliers hang suspended from 
the ridgepole of crossed sticks, wreathed with ivy, and in the 
socketed ends are four adamant candles, each burning bril- 
liantly. Festoons of ivy and " dead men's fingers" (a species 
of woodbine called by this name) are looped gracefully along 
the sides of the room, and in the centre, stretch'ng from 
chandelier to chandelier ; — the effect not slightly increased 
by the contrast of the deep green of the rich vegetation with 
the fine brown bark of the pine logs, and of the white can 



THE ARMY CHURCH. 



191 



vas above, striped and interlaced with the rafters. Below, 
a dense pack of soldiers, in the Avengers'* uniform, sat 
crouching upon the pole seats, beneath which was a carpet 
of evergreen sprays ; all silent, uncovered, respectful. As 
the service opened, you could have heard a pin fall. There 
was nothing here to make a noise. Pew-doors, psalm-books, 
rustling silks, or groined arches, reverberating the slightest 
sound of hand or footfall, there were none. Only the click 
of that wooden latch and a gliding figure, like a stealthy 
vidette, creeping in among the common mass, indicated the 
late comer. The song went up from the deep voices of men, 
— do you know the effect ? — and before our services closed, 
tears rolled down from the faces of hardy warriors. To be 
brief, every evening of the week, this house is now filled 
with - men brought together, four times out of seven, for re- 
ligious objects. "When they can have no preaching, the 
soldiers themselves meet for prayer. 

I stole in one evening lately, when they were at these 
devotions. Prayer after prayer successively was offered in 
earnest,- humblest tones, before rising from their knees ; those 
not worshippers were intent on the scene. Officers were 
present and took part in the service, and seldom have I seen 
such manifest tokens that God is about to appear in power 
No opposition is shown. The whole regiment look upon 
the house now as a matter of pride ; they encourage all the 
meetings. 

The house is attractive to visitors, and when not used for 
religious purposes, is occupied for lyceum debates, musical 
concerts, and the like. It is easy to imagine how much these 
two Christian laborers enjoy the success of their work. One 
of them said to me, " We have been paid for all our labor a 
thousand times over." 

* So called in memory of Colonel Ellsworth, who w?^ killed at Alexandria 



192 



ANXIOUS FOR A TRADE. 



ANXIOUS FOE A TKADE. 

An incident which may be characterized as very Yankee- 
like occurred one morning in front of the Potomac army — 
General Turner's lines. A sergeant deliberately stepped out 
from our rifle pits and moved toward the rebels, waving a 
late paper, and regardless of the probability that he would 
at any moment be shot dead. A rebel officer shouted to 
him to go back, but the sergeant was unmindful of the 
warning, and asked — 

"Won't you exchange newspapers?" 

"No!" said the rebel, "I have no paper and I want you 
to go back." With singular persistence, however, the ser 
geant continued to advance, saying — 

"Well, if you hain't a paper, I reckon some of your men 
have, and I want to exchange, I tell you." 

"My men have not got any thing of the kind, and you 
must go back." 

This the officer said in a louder tone and with great em- 
phasis. Nothing daunted, the Yankee sergeant still ad- 
vanced, until he stood plumply before the indignant officer, 
and said — 

"I tell ye now you needn't get your dander up. I don't 
mean no harm no way. P'raps if ye ain't got no newspapers 
ye might give me suthin else. May-be you men would like 
some coffee for some tobacco. I'm dredful anxious for a 
trade." The astonished officer could only repeat his com- 
mand — 

" Go back, you rascal, or I'll take you a prisoner. I tell 
you we have nothing to exchange, and we don't want any 
thing to do with you Yankees." 

"Well, then," said the sergeant ruefully, "if ye hain't got 



A CHAPEL UNDER GROUND. 



193 



nothing why, here's the paper anyway, and if you get one 
from Eichmond this afternoon, you can send it over. You'll 
find my name there on that." 

The man's impudence or the officer's eagerness for news 
made the latter accept. He took the paper and asked the 
sergeant what was the news from Petersburg. 

" Oh ! our folks say we can go in there just when we want 
to, but we are waiting to gobble all you fellows first," was the 
reply. 

"Well, I don't know but what you can do it!" said the 
lieutenant, turning on his heel and re-entering his rifle-pit ; 
" but meanwhile, my man, you had better go back." 

This time the sergeant obeyed the oft-repeated order, and, 
on telling his adventure, was the hero of the morning among 
his comrades. 



A CHAPEL UNDER GROUND. 

The fourteenth Massachusetts regiment had for a time the 
very honorable but laborious duty of guarding the Long 
Bridge, at Washington, and the approaches to it from the 
Virginia side. A gentleman, who visited the army, in relation 
to their spiritual wants, asked a member of this regiment, if 
they had any praying men among them. 

u Oh, yes, a great many I" was the answer. 

* And do you meet for prayer ?" he inquired. 

" Every day," said the soldier. 

" Where do you meet ?" 

"Just come here," said he, leading the way, as nt. »puke. 
They stood in a new fort, which th<* regiment had been 
building. 
13 



194 



A CHAPEL UNDER GROUND. 



" I can see no place for prayer," said the stranger. 

" Just down there," said the soldier, lifting up a rude trap- 
door at their feet. 

"What is down there?" asked the other, who could see 
nothing but a dark hole before them. 

" That is the bomb-proof, and down there is the place 
where we hold the daily prayer-meeting. Down there," con- 
tinued the soldier, u the men go every day to lift up their 
hearts to God in prayer." It was not yet furnished with the 
implements of death, and these praying men, sixty in number, 
were accustomed to go down twelve feet under ground, in the 
dark, to hold communion with God. 

The same person said to a soldier whom he met in the 
camp.— 

" Are you prepared to fight in this cause ?" 
'' I am, sir," said he. 

" What makes you say you are prepared to fight ? What 
do you mean by it ?" 

"I mean this, sir," answered the soldier. "I have made 
my peace with God, through faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. 
I have the friendship of Christ, and so I am prepared for any 
thing, — life or death." 

" Do you mean that you can have the friendship of Christ 
and fight ?" 

"Exactly so," said the brave man. "I mean just that. I 
could not fight without a consciousness of my interest in the 
love of Christ." 



SURPRISED, BUT READY. 



195 



SUKPKISED, BUT EEADY. 

The clock had just struck the midnight hour, when the 
chaplain was summoned to the cot of a wounded soldier. He 
had left him only an hour before with confident hopes of his 
speedy recovery, — hopes which were shared by the surgeon 
and the wounded man himself. But a sudden change had 
taken place, and the surgeon had come to say that the man 
could live but an hour or two at most, and to beg the chap- 
lain to make the fearful announcement to the dying man. 

He was soon at his side, but, overpowered by his emotions, 
was utterly unable to deliver his message. The dying man, 
however, quickly read the solemn truth in the altered looks 
of the chaplain, his faltering voice and ambiguous words. 
He had not before entertained a doubt of his recovery. He 
was expecting soon to see his mother, and with her kind 
nursing soon to be well. He was, therefore, entirely unpre- 
pared for the announcement, and at first it was overwhelming. 

" I am to die, then ; and, how long ?" 

As he had before expressed hope in Christ, the chaplain 
replied, "You have made your peace with God; let death 
come as soon as it will, he will carry you over the river." 

"Yes; but this is so awfully sudden, awfully sudden!" 

his lips quivered ; he looked up grievingly — " and I shall 
not see my mother." 

u Christ is better than a mother," murmured the chaplain. 

"Yes." The word came in a whisper. His eyes were 
closed ; the lips still wore that trembling grief, as if the chas- 
tisement were too sore, too hard to be borne ; but as the 
minutes .passed, and the soul lifted itself up stronger and 
more steadily, upon the wings of prayer, the countenance 
grew calmer, the lips steadier ; and when the eyes opened 



196 



SURPRISED, BUT READY 



again, there was a light in their depths that could have 
come only from heaven. 

"I thank you for your courage," he said, more feebly, 
taking the hand of the chaplain; "the bitterness is over 
now, and I feel willing to die. Tell my mother" — he paused, 
gave one sob, dry, and full of the last anguish of earth — 
" tell her how I longed to see her ; but if God will permit 
me, I will be near her. Tell her to comfort all who loved 
me, to say that I thought of them all. Tell my father that 
I am glad he gave his consent, and that other fathers will 
mourn for other sons. Tell my minister, by word or letter, 
that I thought of him, and that I thank him for all his 
counsels. Tell him I find that Christ will not desert the 
passing soul, and that I wish him to give my testimony to 
the living, that nothing is of real worth but the religion 
of Jesus. And now will you pray with me ?" 

With swelling emotion and tender tones, the chaplain 
besought God's grace and presence ; then, restraining his 
sobs, he bowed down and pressed upon the beautiful brow, 
already chilled with the breath of the coming angel, twice, 
thrice, a fervent kiss. They might have been as tokens 
from the father and mother, as well as himself. So thought 
perhaps the dying soldier, for a heavenly smile touched his 
face with new beauty, as he said, " Thank you ; I won't trou- 
ble you any longer. You are wearied out ; go to your 
rest." 

"The Lord God be with you," was the firm response 
u Amen," trembled from the fast whitening lips. 

Another hour passed. The chaplain still moved uneasily 
around his room. There were hurried sounds overhead, and 
footsteps on the stairs. He opened his door, and encountered 
the surgeon, who whispered one little word, " Gone." Cnrist's 
soldier had found the Captain of his salvation. 



ANECDOTE OF PKESIDENT LINCOLN. 



197 



A BKAVE CONFESSION. 

A visitor to a Philadelphia hospital, one of the women- 
workers in behalf of the invalid soldiers, says : — 

In going my rounds, I stopped once to speak to a young 
man of a rather agreeable and pleasant expression of face 
who seemed anxious to talk, and exhibited much intelligence, 
though without culture. At the battle of Newport News, 
he had been shot through the right leg, and had suffered 
terribly, — so much that he now looked the very shadow of a 
man, he was so dreadfully emaciated. His account of the battle 
was enthusiastic, and concluded with a long detail of the 
tortures he had to endure from hunger, thirst, and indeed 
almost every imaginable ill that could befall a soldier in the 
field, surrounded by enemies. 

" I suppose you don't feel much like going back, do you ?" 
I asked, when he had finished. 

" Yes," he replied heartily. " If I knew I should have to 
suffer the same over again, I should want to go back. I 
want to get well chiefly to return to duty. There are too 
few honest patriots to spare even a single one, and if I have 
any pride, it is because I know I am one, — whole-souled and 
true. I haven't many virtues, but my fault will never be 
treachery to my native land. I'll die for her if I can't live 
to defend her 1" 



ANECDOTE OF PKESIDENT LINCOLN. 

" I have observed more than once," says Daniel Webster, 
in his eulogy on honest Zachary Taylor, 11 that the prevalent 
notion with the masses of mankind for conferring high 



198 ANECDOTE OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 



honors on individuals is a confidence in their mildness, their 
paternal, protecting, prudent, and safe character. The people 
naturally feel safe where they feel themselves to be under 
the control and protection of sober counsel, of impartial 
minds, and a general paternal superintendence." 

Such titles to popular confidence and favor we recognise, 
also, in the man on whom it has devolved to guide our ship 
of State through the present crisis. The people trust him 
because he has made them feel that he is unselfish and 
honest. They believe he has sought to do his duty accord- 
ing to the best of his knowledge and ability, and that con- 
viction at the bottom of their hearts has been our sheet- 
anchor , it has held us together, has buoyed up the nation's 
faith, has kept us from drifting into anarchy and ruin. It 
is a quality of character and a means of power not incon- 
sistent with genius, but which genius alone does not confer ; 
it is worth infinitely more to us, in a time like this, than any 
glare of military reputation, or brilliancy of intellect, or 
diplomatic skill. 

The way to be thought upright and faithful and earnest 
for the public welfare, is to be so in truth, and it is by that 
art of arts that Mr. Lincoln has so won to himself the hearts 
of the great mass of the nation. 

Incidents like the following bring out the character of an 
individual in a natural manner, and leave us in no doubt 
how we are to understand him. 

On Monday last (says a visitor at Washington), I dropped 
in upon Mr. Lincoln, and found him busy counting green- 
backs. 

"This, sir," said he, "is something out of my usual line; 
but a President of the United States has a multiplicity of 
duties not specified in the Constitution or acts of Congress. 



LOCK OF HAIR FOR MOTHER. 



199 



This one of them. This money belongs to a poor negro who 
is a porter in one of the departments (the treasury), who is 
at present very ill with the small pox. He is now in hospi- 
tal, and could not draw his pay because he could not sign 
his name. 

"I have been at considerable trouble to overcome the , 
difficulty and get it for him, and have at length succeeded 
in cutting red tape, as you newspaper men say. I am now 
dividing the money and putting by a portion labelled, in an 
envelope, with my own hands, according to his wish ;" and 
his excellency proceeded to endorse the package very care- 
fully. 

No one who witnessed the transaction could fail to appre- 
ciate the goodness of heart which would prompt a man in 
his situation, borne down by a weight of cares almost with- 
out parallel in the world's history, to turn aside thus and 
befriend one of the humblest of his fellow-creatures in sick- 
ness and sorrow. 



LOCK OF HAIR FOE MOTHER. 

It was just after the battle of Williamsburg, where hun- 
dreds of our brave fellows had fallen, never to bear arms 
again in their country's cause, and where hundreds more 
were wounded, that a soldier came to the tent of a delegate 
of the Christian Commission and said, " Chaplain, one of our 
boys is badly wounded, and wants to see you right away." 

Hurrying after the messenger, says the delegate, I was 
taken to the hospital and led to a bed, upon which lay a 
noble young soldier. He was pale and blood-stained from a 
terrible wound above the temple. I saw at a glance that he 



200 



LOCK OF HAIR FOR MOTHER. 



had but a few hours to live upon earth. Taking his hand, I 
said to him-— 

" Well, my brother, what can I do for you?" 

The poor dying soldier looked up in my face, and placing 
his finger where his hair was stained with his blood, he said — 

" Chapkin cut a big lock from here for mother ! for m 
mother, mind, chaplain I" 

I hesitated to do it. He said, " Don't be afraid, chaplain, 
to disfigure my hair. It's for mother, and nobody will come 
to see me in the dead-house to-morrow." 

I did as he requested me. 

" Now, chaplain," said the dying man, " I want you to 
kneel down by me and return thanks to God." 
"For what?" I asked. 

" For giving me such a mother. Oh ! chaplain, she is a 
good mother ; her teachings comfort me and console me now. 
And, chaplain, thank God that by his grace I am a Christian. 
What would I do now if I was not a Christian ? I know 
that my Eedeemer liveth. I feel that his finished work has 
saved me. And, chaplain, thank God for giving me dying 
grace. He has made my dying bed 

1 Feel soft as downy pillows are.' 

Thank him for the promised home in glory. I'll soon be 
there — there, where there is no war, nor sorrow, nor desola- 
tion, nor death — where I shall see Jesus, and be forever with 
the Lord." 

I knelt by the dying man, and thanked God for the bless- 
ings he had bestowed upon him — the blessings of a good 
mother, a Christian hope, and dying grace, to bear testimony 
to God's faithfulness. 

Shortly after the prayer, he said, " Good-by, chaplain ; if 
you ever see that mother of mine, tell her it was all well 
with me." 



CARTE DE VISITB. 



201 



CAKTE DE YISITB. 

" 'Twas a terrible fight," the soldiers said ! 

" Our colonel was one of the first to fall, 

Shot dead on the field by a rifle ball, — 
A braver heart than his never bled." 

A group for „he painter's art were they : 
The soldier with scarred and sunburnt face, 
A fair-haired girl, full of youth and grace, 

And her aged mother, wrinkled and gray. 

These three in porch, where the sunlight came 
Through the tangled leaves of the jasmine- vine, 
Spilling itself like a golden wine, 

And flecking the doorway with rings of flame. 

The soldier had stopped to rest by the way, 
For the air was sultry with summer-heat ; 
The road was like ashes under the feet, 

And a weary distance before him lay. 

" Yes, a terrible fight : our ensign was shot 
As the order to charge was given the men, 
When one from the ranks seized the colors, and then 

He, too, fell dead on the self-same spot. 

" A handsome boy was this last ! his hair 
Clustered in curls round his noble brow; 
I can almost fancy I see him now, 

With the scarlet stain on his face so fair." 

" What was his name ? — have you never heard ? — 
Where was he from, this youth who fell ? 
And your regiment, stranger, which was it ? tell V 1 

* Our regiment? It was the twenty-third." 



202 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES IN THE ARMY. 



The color fled from the young girl's cheek, 
Leaving it as white as the face of the dead ; 
The mother lifted her eyes, and said ; 

" Pity my daughter — in mercy speak I" 

" I never knew aught of this gallant youth," 
The soldier answered ; "not even his name, 
Or from what part of our State he came : — 

As God is above, I-speak the truth!" 

u But when we buried our dead that night, 
I took from his breast this picture, — see ! 
It is as like him as like can be : 

Hold it this way, toward the light." 

One glance, and a look, half-sad, half- wild, 
Passed over her face, which grew more pale, 
Then a passionate, hopeless, heart-broken wail, 

And the mother bent low o'er the prostrate child. 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES EST THE ARMY\ 

It now became a matter of the highest moment to amuse 
the men, and bear their thoughts to those truths which have 
ever stilled the tumult of human passion. We made arrange- 
ments to start in the camp various classes for mutual instruc- 
tion. Two in the Latin lauguage, one in the study of Ger- 
man, one in arithmetic, and, most important of all, a debating 
society. In order to carry successfully into execution all 
these plans for improvement, I wrote to my friends Mans- 
field Brown and Joseph McKnight, of Pittsburg, for the 
means to purchase a tent for public worship, and such assem- 
blies as would conduce to the benefit of the regiment. Most 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES IN THE ARMY. 203 



generously, and without the delay of an hour, they responded, 
authorizing the purchase of a tent. The very day their letter 
was received, a large tent was offered for sale in a neighbor- 
ing camp. This I immediately purchased ; and before night 
had it pitched, a floor laid down, and a stove placed in it. 

Thus, every thing was arranged for Sabbath worship. 
This was about the 1st of January, 1862. We met in the 
tent on Sabbath morning, a large congregation, some seated 
on camp-stools, some on rude benches, some on the floor, 
many standing at the entrance of the tent. The interest of 
the occasion was greatly increased by the presence of Mrs. 
General Hays, who was then on a visit to her husband, Mrs. 
General Jameson, Mrs. Maria Hayes, the excellent matron of 
our hospital, whom all loved as a mother, and Miss Gilliam, 
and Miss Herr, who, with a self-denial ever to be com- 
mended, had beoome nurses in our hospital. The season 
was one of the greatest interest and pleasure. It was tne 
bursting of sunshine through the darkness that had hung 
over us like a pall. It gave hope of future benefit and en- 
joyment; it reminded us of home; it was almost a church. 
Many eyes swam in tears, and many voices choked with emo 
tion as we sang, 

"Jesus, lover of my soul," 

and again, 

"The Lord's my Shepherd, 
I'll not want." 

The tent gave me the theme of that morning. I told them 
the history of its purchase, of the generous proffer of further 
aid, of books, etc., etc. ; and that these were but slight tokens 
of the deep interest felt in their welfare at home. I reminded 
them of the scenes attending their departure from home ; of 
the prayers, tears, and vows of the last Sabbath they spent 
amongst their kindred ; of the irrepressible anguish of their 



204 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES IN THE ARMY. 



mothers, wives, children, and sisters, when they parted with 
them; of the promises they had made. They had never 
known before how large a place they had filled in the hearts 
of those who loved them. I reminded them that at this very 
hour, as their parents and kindred were assembled in the 
houses of worship, they were in the hearts of all, and the holy 
song was broken by sobs, and faces of prayer were wet with 
tears, because they were not there ; how essential they were 
to the happiness and life of many. I alluded to the hundreds 
of letters we were every week receiving, all breathing the 
same sentiment, exhorting and entreating them by all that 
was dear and sacred to follow the teachings of their ministers, 
and to revere the memories of home; and there was com- 
mitted to them the most sacred of all trusts, — the earthly hap- 
piness of those to whom God had bound them. I asked them 
if they could be so cruel as to blast the hopes and embitter 
the life of one that loved them, and bend down their vener- 
able parents with a weight that would crush them to the 
grave ; and if they thought there was any sacrifice too great 
for them to make for those in whose hearts they were daily 
borne. I reminded them of the incurable anguish they 
would endure if they heard of their sins ; that they had fallen 
before temptation, had gone to dens of shame, had indulged 
in drunkenness, had become profane: to themselves these 
sins would bring only evil now, and in the end remorse. 
Yet they might find some relief from conscious degradation in 
the excitements of the camp, in the occupations and activities 
of a soldier ; but what balm could be found to heal the hearts 
they had broken, and who could comfort those who mourned 
over their sons as falling from virtue and piety ? I exhorted 
them, for the sake of all whose interests they represented, not 
to fall into sin, but to shun those evil ways which set on fire 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES IN THE ARMY. 205 



of hell the whole course of nature. And if they were deter- 
mined to have nothing to do with religion, and to dismiss 
from their hearts all fear of God, jet every sentiment of manli- 
ness, and every principle of honor, demanded they should not 
disgrace the name they bore. They were here the represen- 
tatives of their fathers' houses ; and if they were churlish, 
quarrelsome, drunken, and profane, they not only degraded 
themselves, but dishonored their parents, — for the tree was 
judged by its fruits. I mentioned the case of a young soldier 
of a neighboring camp, who had fallen since he left home 
into many of the sins of the army, who, while playing cards, 
had become angered, and broken out into such blasphemy as 
confounded even his companions. While still angry and 
disputing, some one handed him a letter just brought into 
camp. It was from his mother, and she a widow. After he 
had read the first few words, the letter fell from his hands, 
and he burst into tears, exclaiming, il My mother ! my 
mother ! If she knew of my sins, she would die of a broken 
heart !" Then, lifting the letter again, he read a few more 
lines, and sobbed out, "Yes, mother, I will, I will, I will 
read the Bible you gave me. I will try to pray : I will break 
off my sins. Oh, my mother, I thank God you do not know 
how low I have sunk 1" And with many passionate excla- 
mations and tears he continued to read the words of warning 
and love. One by one his companions went out and left him 
alone with his mother. 

I entreated them to remember that the habits of sin, once 
contracted, were not easily thrown off. Some thought that 
sin was as easily cast out of the soul as a snow-flake was 
shaken from the hand. But this was against all human 
experience; "for sooner shall the Ethiopian change his ski a, 
and the leopard his spots, than those who have learned to do 



206 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES IN THE ARMY. 



evil shall learn to do well, etc. And with many other like 
words I reasoned with them. 

The effect of this address was most manifest. All listened 
with increasing interest ; many with tears. 

At night I again preached on Luke xii. I urged to the 
confession of Christ, and spoke of the danger and temptation 
to which they would be exposed, — the perils of sickness and 
battle; and they needed above every thing to be made hope- 
ful and strong by faith in an almighty, merciful, ever-present 
Friend. The impression of the morning was increased at 
night, and many retired to weep and pray. And on this day 
commenced one of the most remarkable seasons of religious 
solemnity I have ever seen. This interest continued unabated 
in power until we were broken by sickness and battle in the 
Peninsula. 

During these months, hundreds in the camp found, the 
highest joy in religious meetings, and with ever new 
pleasure they came together to hear the gospel. It was a 
season never to be forgotten. Nearly all the murmuring 
and discontent of the camp passed away. The men were 
sober, quiet, and cheerful. Some who had been for years 
dissipated, abandoned the cup, and, never, within my knowl- 
edge, afterward fell. Others, who had ever been a burden 
to their families, now confessed their guilt, and sent home the 
humble acknowledgment and promise of amendment. Others 
laid open long-concealed sins, and sought instruction in 
regard to what they should do to make atonement for the 
wrong they had committed. It was a time of great search 
ings of heart, and for many weeks my tent was crowded at 
all hours, when the men were off duty, by those wishing to 
know the way of life. 

For the mutual protection and encouragement of fchose 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES IN THE ARMY. 207 

who lesirod to begin a new life I resolved, after consultation 
with many officers and friends, to form a church in the regi- 
ment We had nearly one hundred men, officers and soldiers, 
who were members of various churches. For harmony, it 
was essential to form the church on principles common to all. 
I therefore drew up a form of doctrine and covenant to which 
all could assent, and which would bind us in unity, and bear 
with it all the sanctity of a sacred agreement. 

Before the communion, I devoted every hour when the 
men were in camp, in visiting from tent to tent, and talked 
with each one separately, or in the tent circle, in regard to 
their religious hopes and views. I endeavored as far as pos 
sible to ascertain their home history, that I might more per- 
fectly identify myself with them in sympathy, and adapt my 
instructions to their moral and spiritual state ; for I found 
invariably that there were some events, scenes, and instruc- 
tions, which permanently impressed the character for good or 
evil, as if the human mind was only now and then, and at 
long intervals, capable of being moved and changed. I en- 
deavored to find what circumstance, what lesson, what deed 
had left behind an influence which survived all changes. I 
found in some cases the mind was embittered and permanent- 
ly warped by some act of thoughtless or designed cruelty, 
long forgotten by the offender, but in the heart of him who 
had suffered, remaining like a viper's tooth, poisoning the 
very fountains of life. In others, some act of duplicity, some 
deed of hypocrisy, created distrust of all who bore the 
Christian name ; and too blind and too unjust to see that a 
cause may be glorious, while he who represents it is base, 
they laid the crime of one at the door of all In other 
cases, some lewd companion or vile book had debased in 
sensualism; and th 3 imagination had hung in all the cham- 



208 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES IN THE ARMY. 



bers of the soul the pictures of evil. Again, there had bet?n 
indulgence in childhood, and the suspension of parental au- 
thority at the season when it was most important, producing 
a restless aversion to all law. In fact, there were but few in 
whom the controlling elements were reason and conscience ; 
but the many were biased and led by their appetites, passions, 
and prejudices, by pride, vanity, and ambition; and these 
emotions and vices impelled them in the path they had chosen, 
and rendered a change of character almost impossible. I 
made it my aim to gain the confidence of all, that I might 
successfully combat their errors, enlighten their understand 
ings, and appeal to their consciences and better natures. 
This course of visitation made me acquainted with the pecu- 
liarities and past history of each one, and enabled me, as I 
hope, to be more valuable at this time ; and my own con- 
stant study in regard to the things which most influenced the 
conduct of men, added to the plainness of my teachings at 
this period. 

Before the day of the communion, we had a succession of 
storms. The mud was beyond fable. The men were con- 
fined to their tents. This enabled me to more successfully 
visit them, — to sit down by their side without the fear of 
interruption. 

On Sabbath, February 9th, 1862, we organized the church, 
and received into its communion one hundred and seventy 
members, about sixty of whom for the first time confessed 
Christ. At the commencement of the services I baptized six 
young soldiers. They kneeled before me, and I consecrated 
them to God for life and for death ; the majority of them 
baptized, as it proved, for the dead. I then read the form of 
covenant and system of faith ; to which all gave their assent. 

I then read the names of those who wished to enter this 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES IN THE ARM ST. 



209 



fold in the wilderness, enumerating them by companies; 
those who had made a profession of religion at home, and 
came to us as members of Christian churches ; and those who 
now came out as the disciples of the Redeemer. 

Then followed the communion service. This was one of 
the most affecting and impressive seasons of my life. The 
powers of the world to come rested on all minds. The 
shadow of the great events so soon to follow was creeping 
over us, giving earnestness and an impressive solemnity to 
all hearts. It was a day never to be forgotten, as a com- 
mencement of a new era in the life of many. It was a scene 
on which angels might look down with unmingled pleasure ; 
for here the weary found rest ; the burdened, the peace of 
forgiveness; the broken in heart, beauty for ashes. Our po- 
sition increased in a high degree the interest of the occasion. 
We were far from our churches and homes, yet we found 
here the sacred emblems of our religion ; and, looking into 
a future which we knew was full of danger, sickness, and 
death to many, we here girded ourselves for the conflict. It 
much resembled the solemn communions of Christians in the 
time of persecution. Our friends who were present from a 
distance, of whom there were several, rejoiced greatly that 
there was such a scene in the army. General Jameson was 
deeply moved, and afterward said it was the most solemn 
and interesting scene of his life. 

Again on Sabbath, March 9th, the religious interest con 
tinuing, we held another communion. At this time twenty- 
eight were received into the church. Seven young men 
were baptized. The interest was even greater than at the 
former communion ; and it gives me now the greatest satis- 
faction to know that this season, which gave to many the 

highest enjoyment ever known on earth, where the cup of 
14 



210 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES IN THE ARMY. 



thanksgiving was mingled with the tears of gratitude, pre- 
pared for the sacrifice that was to follow. Many who were 
there never again partook of the wine of promise until 
they drank it new in the kingdom of God, and sat down 
at the marriage-supper of the Lamb. My friend Dr. Craw- 
ford was never again at the Lord's table ; but was then 
prepared, by the peace like a river, for entering upon the 
blessed rest. And many others found their beds softened 
in sickness by the remembrance of the consecration and joy 
of those sacred seasons. Others were made tranquil and 
even triumphant in death, by the vision of the Saviour 
whom they had first met in the breaking of bread in the 
camp. 

Mansfield Brown, Esq., of Pittsburg, was present at the 
last communion. His impression and report of the scene 
deserves a place in the record of mercy, and will be read, 
by every one into whose hands this book falls, with pleasure 
and profit. 

" Dr. McKinnet : — Dear Sir: — I know it will give you 
pleasure to hear how I spent the Sabbath, March 9th, in the 
63d regiment, Colonel Alexander Hays, near Fort Lyon. 

"As you are well aware, there has been for some time 
quite a revival of religion going on. A most interesting, 
soul-stirring state of things exists among them. Grod is 
certainly largely blessing them. Never did I see men so 
deeply in earnest. 

" In the morning, at eleven o'clock, Dr. Marks preached 
in the tent-church to as many as filled the two tents. At 
the close he said that as it was likely the regiment would 
move soon, he would hold a communion that night, and 
invited any persons wishing to join, to meet him. 

" At two P. M. we held a most solemn and touching 



\ 



RELIGIOUS EXERCISES IN THE ARMY. 211 



prayer-meeting. The prayers of the soldiers were very 
ardent and to the purpose. I conversed with many dear 
young men in their tents and alone, who readily acknow- 
ledged their need of salvation. 

" At night, the tents were crowded to excess ; and, as the 
evening was pleasant, the ends of the tents were opened, and 
an eager crowd pressed around. A small, rude table was 
used ; common bread, wine made of grape-jelly and water, 
and two glasses, were placed in the centre. Our tents were 
lighted by three candles, swung from the centre. Familiar 
words were well sung. A few introductory remarks and a 
prayer, then eight stalwart soldiers kneeled around the table 
and were baptized ; the bread and wine were then passed to 
communicants ; even outside the tents, all eager to obey the 
command, 1 This do in remembrance of me.' Everybody was 
weeping. Twenty-nine joined on profession, — the whole 
membership now being one hundred and eighty-eight. We 
had sweet singing while Elder Danks (captain) and myself 
distributed the sacramental elements. Surely, Grod was 
there. And it was well calculated to remind us of that dark 
night in which it was instituted. It was a most solemn, im- 
pressive scene, and one never to be forgotten. We closed it 
by all audibly uniting in saying the Lord's Prayer, and 
parted, — never all to meet until we meet at the marriage- 
feast in heaven. 

" The soldiers are obliged to put out lights and retire at 
tap of the drum ; but a few of us spent an hour yet in devo- 
tion, singing, and conversation in Captain Danks 's tent. It 
was a good meeting. To witness the men's deep emotion at 
any reference to their families in prayer, and then to hear 
thern say, 'We can die without fear, and leave the lovea 
ones with God, content, so our glorious flag is sustained ' 
gave confidence in the success of our country's cause. 



212 



DEATH OF JOHN. 



" I stepped into a tent in which were five young men, 
Sabbath morning. Three were reading their testaments , 
had a pointed conversation with them ; found they had all 
been well trained at home ; all knew what was their duty ; 
three of them joined the glorious army to-night. Another 
fine, well-trained young stranger had been halting and hesi- 
tating, though greatly exercised for some time ; four of his 
mess had joined, the fifth having died suddenly. He said 
every letter from his good father and mother urged and en- 
treated him to seek religion, but he doubted his fitness. He 
was that night baptized and communed, and afterward told 
Dr. Marks how happy and thankful he felt. His load was 
all gone. , He intends to be a preacher. 

" On Monday morning, among the first persons I saw was 
a stalwart man coming out of the doctor's cabin, weeping. 
He grasped my hand and said he was so happy. The doctor 
has written to me since that the good work is still increasing. 
May it go on until every dear soldier in our army shall be- 
come a good soldier of the cross !" 



THE DEATH OF JOHN", 

THE WEST VIRGINIA BLACKSMITH. 

Miss L. M. Alcott, the accomplished daughter of A. B. 
Alcott, the Concord Philosopher and the bosom friend of 
Ralph Waldo Emerson, was for a time a nurse in one of the 
hospitals for the wounded in the vicinity of Washington, 
D. C. She subsequently published a little volume, entitled 
" Hospital Sketches," in which the life, heroism, and death 



DEATH OF JOHN. 



213 



of some of our brave fellows, wounded in the struggle for 
the nation's life, are portrayed with a graphic power which 
has never been surpassed. Among these descriptions of life 
and death in the hospital, none surpasses, in beauty and 
pathos, the story of John, the West Yirginia blacksmith 
Miss Alcott is in one of the wards of the hospital, minister 
ing to the sick, when a messenger from another ward comes 
in with the expected yet dreaded message : — 

u John is going, ma'am, and wants to see you if you can 
come." 

" The moment this boy is asleep. Tell him so, and let me 
know if I am in danger of being too late." 

The messenger departed, and while I quieted poor Shaw, 
I thought of John. He came in a day or two after the 
others; and one evening, when I entered my "pathetic 
room," I found a lately emptied bed occupied by a large, 
fair man, with a fine face, and the serenest eyes I ever met. 
One of the earlier comers had often spoken of a friend who 
had remained behind that those apparently worse wounded 
than himself might reach a shelter first. It seemed a David 
and Jonathan sort of friendship. The man fretted for his 
mate, and was never tired of praising John — his courage, 
sobriety, self-denial, and unfailing kindliness of heart ; al- 
ways winding up with : " He's an out an' out fine feller, 
ma'am ; you see if he ain't." 

I had some curiosity to behold this piece of excellence, and 
when he came, watched him for a night or two, before I made 
friends with him ; for, to tell the truth, I was a little afraid 
of the stately looking man, whose bed had to be lengthened 
to accommodate his commanding stature ; who seldom spoke, 
uttered no complaint, asked no sympathy, but tranquilly ob- 
served what went on about him ; and, as he lay high upon 



214 



DEATH OF JOHN. 



his pillows, no picture of dying statesman or warrior was 
ever fuller of real dignity than this Virginia blacksmith. A 
most attractive face he had, framed in brown hair and beard, 
comely featured and full of vigor, as yet unsubdued by pain ; 
thoughtful and often beautifully mild while watching the 
afflictions of others, as if entirely forgetful of his own. His 
mouth was grave and firm, with plenty of will and courage 
in its lines, but a smile could make it as sweet as any 
woman's ; and his eyes were child's eyes, looking one fairly 
in the face with a clear, straightforward glance, which prom- 
ised well for such as placed their faith in him. He seemed 
to cling to life as if it were rich in duties and delights, and 
he had learned the secret of content. The only time I saw 
his composure disturbed, was when my surgeon brought 
another to examine John, who scrutinized their faces with 
ar< anxious look, asking of the elder : " Do you think I shall 
pull through, sir?" "I hope so, my man." And, as the 
two passed on, John's eye still followed them, with an intent- 
ness which would have won a clearer answer from them, had 
they seen it. A momentary shadow flitted over his face ; 
thea came the usual serenity, as if, in that brief eclipse, he 
had acknowledged the existence of some hard possibility, 
and, asking nothing yet hoping all things, left the issue in 
God's hands, with that submission which is true piety. 

The next night, as I went my rounds with Dr. P., I hap- 
pened to ask which man in the room probably suffered most ; 
and to my great surprise, he glanced at John. 

" Every breath he draws is like a stab ; for the ball pierced 
the left lung, broke a rib, and did no end of damage here and 
there ; so the poor lad can find neither forgetfulness nor ease, 
because he must lie on his wounded back or suffocate. It 
will be a hard struggle, and a long one, for he possesses great 



DEATH OF JOHN. 



215 



vitality ; but even his temperate life can't save him ; I wish 
it could." 

"You don't mean he must die, doctor ?" 

" Bless jou, there's not the slightest hope for him ; and 
you'd better tell him so before long ; women have a way of 
doing such things comfortably, so I leave it to you. He 
won't last more than a day or two, at furthest." 

I could have sat down on the spot and cried heartily, if I 
had not learned the wisdom of bottling up one's tears for lei- 
sure moments. Such an end seemed very hard for such a 
man, when half a dozen worn-out, worthless bodies round 
him, were gathering up the remnants of wasted lives, to 
linger on for years, perhaps, burdens to others, daily re- 
proaches to themselves. The army needed men like John, 
earnest, brave, and faithful ; fighting for liberty and justice 
with both heart and hand true soldiers of the Lord. I could 
not give him up so soon, or think with any patience of so 
excellent a nature robbed of its fulfilment, and blundered into 
eternity by the rashness or stupidity of those at whose hands so 
many lives may be required. It was an easy thing for Dr. P. 
to say : " Tell him he must die," but a cruelly hard thing to 
do, and by no means as " comfortable" as he politely suggested 
I had not the heart to do it then, and privately indulged the 
hope that some change for the better might take place, in 
spite of gloomy prophecies, so rendering my task unneces- 
sary. A few minutes later, as I came in again, with fresh 
rollers, I saw John sitting erect, with no one to support him, 
while the surgeon dressed his back. I had never hitherto 
seen it done; for, having simpler wounds to attend to, and 
knowing the fidelity of the attendant, I had left John to him. 
thinking it might be more agreeable and safe; for both 
strength and experience were needed in his case. I bad for 



216 



DEATH OF JOHN. 



gotten that the strong man might long for the gentler tend- 
ance of a woman's hands, the sympathetic magnetism of a 
woman's presence, as well as the feebler souls about him. 
The doctor's words caused me to reproach myself with 
neglect, not of any real duty, perhaps, but of those little 
cares and kindnesses that solace homesick spirits, and make 
the heavy hours pass easier. John looked lonely and for- 
saken just then, as he sat with bent head, hands folded on his 
knee, and no outward sign of suffering, till, looking nearer, I 
saw great tears roll down and drop upon the floor. It was a 
new sight there ; for, though I had seen many suffer, some 
swore, some groaned, most endured silently, but none wept. 
Yet it did not seem weak, only very touching, and straight- 
way my fear vanished, my heart opened wide and took him 
m, as gathering the bent head in my arms, as freely as if he 
had been a little child, I said, " Let me help you bear it, 
John." 

Never, on any human countenance, have I seen so swift 
and beautiful a look of gratitude, surprise, and comfort, as 
that which answered me more eloquently than the whis- 
pered — 

" Thank you, ma'am ; this is light good ! this is what I 
wanted !" 

" Then why not ask for it before !" 

" I didn't like to be a trouble : you seemed so busy, and I 
could manage to get on alone." 

" You shall not want it any more, J ohn." 

Nor did he ; for now I understood the wistful look that 
sometimes followed me, as I went out, after a brief pause 
beside his bed, or merely a passing nod, while busied with 
those who seemed to need me more than he, because more 
urgent in their demands ; now I knew that to him, as to so 



DEATH OF JOHN. 



217 



many, i was the poor substitute for mother, wife, or sister, 
aud ill his eyes no stranger, but a friend who hitherto had 
seemed neglectful ; for, in his modesty he had never guessed 
the truth. This was changed now ; and, through the tedious 
operation of probing, bathing, and dressing his wounds, he 
leaned against me, holding my hand fast, and, if pain wrung 
further tears from him, no one saw them fall but me. "When 
he was laid down again, I hovered about him, in a remorse- 
ful state of mind that would not let me rest, till I had bathed 
his face, brushed his "bonny brown hair," set all things 
smooth about him, and laid a knot of heath and heliotrope on 
his clean pillow. While doing this, he watched me with the 
satisfied expression I so liked to see ; and when I offered the 
little nosegay held it carefully in his great hand, smoothed a 
ruffled leaf or two, surveyed and smelt it with an air of 
genuine delight, and lay contentedly regarding the glimmer 
of the sunshine on the green. Although the manliest man 
among my forty, he said, " Yes, ma'am," like a little boy ; 
received suggestions for his comfort with the quick smile 
that brightened his whole face ; and now and then, as 1 
stood tidying the table by his bed, I felt him softly touch 
my gown, as if to assure himself that I was there. Any 
thing more natural and frank I never saw, and found this 
brave John as bashful as brave, yet full of excellencies and 
fine aspirations, which, having no power to express them- 
selves in words, seemed to have bloomed into his character 
and made him what he was. 

After that night, an hour of each evening that remained 
to him was devoted to his ease or pleasure. He could not 
talk much, for breath was precious, and he spoke in whis- 
pers; but from occasional conversations, I gleaned scraps 
of private history which only added to the affection and 



218 



DEATH OF JOHN. 



respect L-felt for him. Once lie asked me to write a letter, 
and as I settled pen and paper, I said, with an irrepressible 
glimmer of feminine curiosity, " Shall it be addressed to 
wife or mother, John ?" 

" Neither, ma'am ; I've got no wife, and will write to 
mother myself when I get better. Did you think I was 
married because of this ?" he asked, touching a plain ring 
he wore, and often turned thoughtfully on his ringer when 
he lay alone. 

" Partly that, but more from a settled sort of look you 
have, a look which young men seldom get until they marry." 

" 1 don't know that ; but I'm not so very young, ma'am, 
thirty, in May, and have been what you might call settled 
this ten years ; for mother's a widow, I'm the oldest child 
she has, and it wouldn't do for me to marry until Lizzy has 
a home of her own, and Laurie's learned his trade; for 
we're not rich, and I must be father to the children and 
husband to the dear old woman, if I can." 

"No doubt but you are both, John; yet how came you 
to go to war, if you felt so ? Wasn't enlisting as bad as 
marrying ?" 

"No, ma'am, not as I see it, for one is helping my neigh- 
bor, the other pleasing myself. I went because I couldn't 
help it. I didn't want the glory or the pay ; I wanted the 
right thing done, and people kept saying the men who were 
in earnest ought to fight. I was in earnest, the Lord 
knows! but I held off as long as I could, not knowing 
which was my duty ; mother saw the case, gave me her 
ring to keep me steady, and said ' Go :' so I went." 

A short story and a simple one, but the man and the 
mother were portrayed better than pages of fine writing 
could have done it. 



DEATH OF JOHN. 



219 



"Do you ever regret that you came, when you lie here 
suffering so much?" 

" Never, ma'am ; I haven't helped a great deal, but I've 
shown I was willing to give my life, and perhaps I've got 
to ; but I don't blame anybody, and if it was to do over 
again, I'd do it. I'm a little sorry I wasn't wounded in 
front , it looks cowardly to be hit in the back, but I obeyed 
orders, and it don't matter in the end, I know." 

Poor John I it did not matter now, except that a shot in 
front might have spared the long agony in store for him. 
He seemed to read the thoughts that troubled me, as he 
spoke so hopefully when there was no hope, for he suddenly 
added : 

" This is my first battle ; do they think it's going to bs 
my last ?" 

" I'm afraid they do, John." 

It was the hardest question I had ever been called upon 
to answer ; doubly hard with those clear eyes fixed on mine, 
forcing a truthful answer by their own truth. He seemed a 
little startled at first, pondered over the fateful fact a mo- 
ment, then shook his head, with a glance at the broad chest 
and muscular limbs stretched out before him : 

"I'm not afraid, but it's difficult to believe all at once. 
I am so strong it don't seem possible for such a little wound 
to kill me." 

Merry Mercutio's dying words glanced through my mem- 
ory as he spoke : " "lis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as 
a church door, but 'tis enough." And John would have 
said the same could he have seen the ominous black holes 
between his shoulders. He never had; and, seeing the 
ghastly sights about him, could not believe his own more 
fatal than these, for all the s lffering it caused him. 



220 



DEATH OF JOHN. 



" Shall I write to jour mother now ?" I asked, thinking 
that these sudden tidings might change all plans and pur- 
poses : but they did not ; for the man received the order of 
the Divine Commander to march with the same unquestion- 
ing obedience with which the soldier had received that of 
the human one, doubtless remembering that the first led him 
to life and the last to death. 

"No, ma'am; to Laurie just the same; he'll break it to 
her best, and I'll add a line to her myself when you get 
done." 

So I wrote the letter which he dictated, finding it better 
than any I had sent; for, though here and there a little 
ungrammatica! or inelegant, each sentence came to me briefly 
worded, but most expressive ; full of excellent counsel to 
the boy, tenderly bequeathing "mother and Lizzie" to his 
care, and bidding him good-by in words the sadder for their 
simplicity. He added a few lines, with steady hand, and, as 
I sealed it, said, with a patient sort of sigh, " I hope the 
answer will come in time for me to see it ;" then, turning 
away his face, laid the flowers against his lips, as if to hide 
some quiver of emotion at the thought of such a sudden 
sundering of all the dear home ties. 

These things had happened two days before; now John 
was dying, and the letter had not come. I had been sum- 
moned, to many death-beds in my life, but to none that 
made my heart ache as it did then, since my mother called 
me to watch the departure of a spirit akin to this in 
its gentleness and patient strength. As I went in, John 
stretched out both hands : 

" I knew you'd come ! I guess I'm moving on, ma'am." 

He was ; and so rapidly that, even while he spoke, over 
his face I saw the gray vail falling that no ^ uman hand can 



EEATH OF JOHN". 



221 



lift. I sat down by Mm, wiped the drops from his forehead, 
stirred the air about him with the slow wave of a fan, and 
waited to help him die. He stood in sore need of help — and 
I could do so little ; for, as the doctor had foretold, the strong 
body rebelled against death, and fought every inch of the 
way, forcing him to draw each breath with a spasm, and 
clench his hands with an imploring look, as if he asked, 
''How long must I endure this and be still! For hours he 
suffered dumbly, without a jnoment's respite, or a moment's 
murmuring ; his limbs grew cold, his face damp, his lips 
white, and again and again he tore the covering off his 
breast, as if the lightest weight added to his agony ; yet 
through it all his eyes never lost their perfect serenity, and 
the man's soul seemed to sit therein, undaunted by the ills 
that vexed his flesh. 

One by one the men woke, and round the room appeared 
a circle of pale faces and watchful eyes, full of awe and pity ; 
for, though a stranger, John was beloved by all. Each man 
there had wondered at his patience, respected his piety, 
admired his fortitude, and now lamented his hard death ; for 
the influence of an upright nature had made itself deeply felt, 
even in one little week. Presently, the Jonathan who so 
loved this comely David came creeping from his bed for a 
last look and word. The kind soul was full of trouble, as 
the choke in his voice, the grasp of his hand, betrayed ; but 
there were no tears, and the farewell of the friends was the 
more touching for its brevity. 

" Old boy, how are you ?" faltered the one. 

" Most through, thank heaven I" whispered the other. 

" Can I say or do any thing for you anywheres V 

"Take my things home, and tell them that I did my 
best." 



222 



DEATH OF JOHN. 



"I will! I will!" 
" Good-by, Ned." 
" Good-by, John, good-by !" 

They kissed each other, tenderly as women, and so parted, 
for poor Ned could not stay to see his comrade die. For 
a little while, there was no sound in the room but the drip 
of water from a stump or two and John's distressful gasps, 
as he slowly breathed his life away. I thought him nearly 
gone, and had just laid down the fan, believing its help to be 
no longer needed, when suddenly he rose up in his bed, and 
cried out with a bitter cry that broke the silence, sharply 
startling every one with its agonized appeal : 

" For God's sake, give me air !" 

It was the only cry pain or death had wrung from him, 
the only boon he had asked ; and none of us could grant it, 
for all the airs that blew were useless now. Dan flung up 
the window. The first red streak of dawn was warming the 
gray east, a herald of the coming sun ; John saw it, and with 
the love of light which lingers in us to the end, seemed to 
read in it a sign of hope of help, for over his whole face there 
broke that mysterious expression, brighter than any smile, 
which often comes to eyes that look their last. He laid him- 
self gently down, and stretching out his strong right arm, as 
if to grasp and bring the blessed air to his lips in a fuller 
flow, lapsed into a merciful unconsciousness, which assured us 
that for him suffering was forever past. He died then ; for, 
though the heavy breaths still tore their way up for a little 
longer, they were but the waves of an ebbing tide that beat 
unfelt against the wreck, which an immortal voyager had 
deserted with a smile. He never spoke again, but to the 
end held my hand close, so close that when he was asleep at 
last, I could not draw it away. Dan helped me, warning me, 



DEATH OF JOHN. 



223 



as lie did so, that it was unsafe for dead and living flesh to 
lie so long together ; but though my hand was strangely cold 
and stiff, and four white marks remained across its back, 
even when warmth and color had returned elsewhere, I could 
not but be glad that, through its touch, the presence of human 
sympathy, perhaps, had lightened that hard hour. 

When they had made him ready for the grave, John lay 
in state for half an hour, a thing which seldom happened in 
that busy place ; but a universal sentiment of reverence and 
affection seemed to fill the hearts of all who had known or 
heard of him; and when the rumor of his death went through 
the house, always astir, many came to see him, and I felt a 
tender sort of pride in my lost patient ; for he looked a most 
heroic figure, lying there stately and still as the statue of 
some young knight asleep upon his tomb. The lovely ex- 
pression which so often beautifies dead faces, soon replaced 
the marks of pain, and I longed for those who loved him 
best to see him when half an hour's acquaintance with death 
had made them friends. As we stood looking at him, the 
ward master handed me a letter, saying it had been forgotten 
the night before It was John's letter, come just an hour too 
late to gladden the eyes that had longed and looked for it so 
eagerly : yet he had it ; for, after I had cut some brown 
locks for his mother, and taken off the ring to send her, tell- 
ing how well the talisman had done its work, I kissed this 
good son for her sake, and laid the letter in his hand, still 
folded as when I drew my own away, feeling that its place 
was there, and making myself happy with the thought, that 
even in his solitary place in the " Government Lot," he 
would not be without some token of the love, which makes 
life beautiful and outlives death. Then I left him, glad to 
have known so genuine a man, and carrying with me an 



224 



CUSTOMER FOR GRANT'S BIOGRAPHY. 



endearing memory of the brave Virginia blacksmith, as he 
lay serenely waiting for the dawn of that long day which 
knows no night. 



HOW TO SPIKE A GUK 

A characteristic incident is related of Captain George 
T« Hebard, formerly a private in company A, of the Chicago 
light infantry, and subsequently commander of the first Yer 
mont battery, which participated in the hard-contested battle, 
near Grand Encore. During the progress of the bloody 
engagement, Major-General Banks rode up and said, energeti- 
cally: "Captain Hebard, your battery will probably be 
taken; spike the guns!" As the general rode off, the cap- 
tain addressed the men, saying: "Not by a — sight! This 
battery isn't to be taken nor spiked. Give them double 
canister, boys!" The battery was charged upon terribly 
three times after that ; the last time, they thought they 
would wait until the enemy had approached quite near, when 
they let fly a storm of deadly grape and canister, killing 
every man within range of the guns. The battery brought off 
every gun and caisson, showing that to be the best way of 
* spiking." 



CUSTOMER FOR GRANT'S BIOGRAPHY. 

Rather an amusing incident concerning General Grant 
is related as having occurred while he was on a journey in a 
railroad train, and where he displayed, as usual, none of the 
insignia of his military rank. A youthful book-peddle] 



NIGHT SCENE IN A H0SPT1AL. 



225 



traversed the cars, crying, "Life of General Grant." A 
mischief-loving aid pointed the youngster to the general's 
seat, suggesting to him that "that man might like a copy." 
General Grant turned over the pages of the book, and 
casually asked, " Who is it this is all about?" The boy, 
giving him a most incredulous grimace of indignation and 
disgust, replied, "You must be a darned greeny not to know 
General Grant I" After this volley, the lieutenant-general, of 
course, surrendered, and bought his biography. 



NIGHT SCENE IN A HOSPITAL. 

It was past eleven, and my patient was slowly wearying 
himself into fitful intervals of quietude, when, in one of these 
pauses, a curious sound arrested my attention. Looking over 
my shoulder, I saw a one-legged phantom hopping nimbi} 
down the room ; and, going to meet it, recognized a certain 
Pennsylvania gentleman, whose wound-fever had taken a turn 
for the worse, and, depriving him of the few wits a drunken 
campaign had left him, set him literally tripping on the light, 
fantastic toe "towards home," as he blandly informed me, 
touching the military cap, which formed a striking contrast 
to the severe simplicity of the rest of his decidedly undress 
uniform. When sane, the least movement produced a roar 
of pain or a volley of oaths : but the departure of reason 
seemed to have wrought an agreeable change both in the 
man and his manners ; for, balancing himself on one leg, like 
a meditative stork, he plunged into an animated discussion 
of the war, the President, lager beer, and Enfield rifles 
15 



226 



NIGHT SCENE IN A HOSPITAL 



regardless of any suggestions of mine as to the propriety of 
returning to bed, lest he be court-martialed for desertion. 

Any thing more supremely ridiculous can hardly be 
imagined than this figure, scantily draped in white, its one 
foot covered with a big blue sock, a dingy cap set rakingiy 
askew on its shaven head, and placid satisfaction beaming on 
its broad, red face, as it nourished a mug in one hand, an old 
boot in the other, calling them canteen and knapsack, while 
it skipped and flattered in the most unearthly fashion. 
What to do with the creature I didn't know ; Dan was absent, 
and if I went to find him, the perambulator might festoon 
himself out of the window, set his toga on fire, or do some 
of his neighbors a mischief. The attendant of the room was 
sleeping like a near relative of the celebrated Seven, and 
nothing short of pins would rouse him; for he had been out 
that day, and whiskey asserted its supremacy in balmy whiffs. 
Still disclaiming, in a fine flow of eloquence, the demented 
gentleman hopped on, blind and deaf to my graspings and 
entreaties ; and I was about to slam the door in his face, and 
run for help, when a second saner phantom, " all in white," 
came to the rescue, in the likeness of a big Prussian, who 
spoke no English, but divined the crisis, and put an end to 
it, by bundling the lively monoped into his bed, like a baby, 
with an authoritative command to " stay put," which received 
added weight from being delivered in an odd conglomeration 
of French and German, accompanied by warning wags of a 
head decorated with a yellow cotton nightcap, rendered most 
imposing by a tassel like a bell- pull. Rather exhausted by 
his excursion, the member from Pennsylvania subsided; and, 
after an irrepressible laugh together, my Prussian ally and 
myself were returning to our places, when the echo of a sob 
caused us to glance along the beds. It came from one in the 



NIGHT SCENE IN A HOSPITAL. 



227 



corner — sutli a little bed! — and such a tearful little face 
looked up at us, as we stopped beside it ! The twelve year 
old drummer-boy was not singing now, but sobbing, with a 
manly effort, all the while, to stifle the distressful sounds that 
would break out. 

" What is it, Teddy ?" I asked, as he rubbed the tears 
away, and checked himself in the middle of a great sob to 
answer, plaintively : 

w I've got a chill, ma'am, but I ain't cryin' for that, 'cause 
I'm used to it. I dreamed Kit was here, and when I waked 
up he wasn't, and I couldn't help it, then." 

The boy came in with the rest, and the man who was taken 
dead from the ambulance was the Kit he mourned. Well he 
might ; for, when the wounded were brought from Frede- 
ricksburg, the child lay in one of the camps thereabout, and 
this good friend, though sorely hurt himself, would not leave 
him to the exposure and neglect of such a time and place ; 
but, wrapping him in his own blanket, carried him in his 
arms to the transport, tended him during the passage, and 
only yielded up his charge when death met him at the door 
of the hospital, which promised care and comfort for the 
boy. For ten days, Teddy had shivered or burned with 
fever and ague, pining the while for Kit, and refusing to be 
comforted, because he had not been able to thank him for 
the generous protection, which, perhaps, had cost the giver's 
life. The vivid dream had wrung the childish heart with a 
fresh pang, and when I tried the solace fitted for his years, 
the remorseful fear that haunted him found vent in a fresh 
burst of tears, as he looked at the wasted hands I was en- 
deavoring to warm : 

" Oh ! if I'd only been as thin when Kit carried me as I 
am now, maybe he wouldn't have died ; but I was heavy, 



228 CALLING ON PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 



ho was hurt worser than we knew, and so it killed him ; and 
I didn't see him to say good- by." 

This thought had troubled him in secret ; and my assu- 
rances that his friend would probably have died at all events, 
hardly assuaged the bitterness of his regretful grief. 

At this juncture, the delirious man began to shout ; the 
one-legged rose up in his bed, as if preparing for another 
dart ; Teddy bewailed himself more piteously than before ; 
and if ever a woman was at her wit's end, that distracted 
female was nurse Periwinkle, during the space of two or three 
minutes, as she vibrated between the three beds, like an 
agitated pendulum. Like a most opportune reinforcement, 
Dan, the handy, appeared, and devoted himself to the lively 
party, leaving me free to return to my post ; for the Prus- 
sian, with a nod and a smile, took the lad away to his own 
bed, and lulled him to sleep with a soothing murmur, like a 
mammoth bumble-bee. I liked that in Fritz, and if he ever 
wondered afterward at the dainties which sometimes found 
their way into his rations, or the extra comforts of his bed, 
he might have found a solution of the mystery in sundry 
persons' knowledge of the fatherly action of that night. 



CALLING ON PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 

An officer under the government called at the executive 
mansion, accompanied by a clerical friend. " Mr. President," 
said he, " allow me to present to you my friend, the Eev. 

Mr. F., of . Mr. F. has expressed a desire to see you, 

and have some conversation with you, and I am happy to be 
the means of introducing him." The President shook hands 



ANECDOTE OF GENERAL BUTLER. 



229 



mih Mr. F., and desiring him to be seated, took a seat him 
self. Then — his countenance having assumed an expression 
of patient waiting — he said, " I am now ready to hear what 
you have to say." " 0, bless you, sir," said Mr. F., " I have 
nothing special to say. I merely called to pay my respects 
to you, and, as one of the million, to assure you of my hearty 
sympathy and support." " My dear sir," said the President, 
rising promptly, his face showing instant relief, and with 
both hands grasping that of his visitor, " I am very glad to 
see you ; I am very glad to see you, indeed. I thought you 
had come to preach to me 1" 



ANECDOTE OF GENERAL BUTLER. 

It will be remembered that the little Count Mejan once 
frantically appealed to the Emperor Napoleon to send an 
armed force to protect the grog-shop keepers of New Orleans 
from an "unconstitutional tax" General Butler had levied 
upon them. The emperor was so puzzled to know what his 
consul had to do with the American Constitution, and on 
what principles he made himself the champion of whiskey- 
venders in an American city, that he called the count home 
to explain. 

It will be seen, from what follows, that General Butler's 
tyranny did not stop at taxing grog-shops. It seems that 
after the expulsion of the rebels and their allies, the Thugs, 
from New Orleans, the dead walls of that city were suddenly 
covered with conspicuous bills containing the following sen 
tence : 

"Get youi shirts at Moody's, 207 Canal Street." 



230 LIFE AND DEATH OF A PATRIOT SOLDIER. 



A planter, a secessionist, came to town some months after 
Butler had taken the reins in his hands, and marvelled 
much at the cleanliness and good order he found prevail- 
ing ; also he was surprised at this notice, which everywhere 
stared him in the face. 

u Get your shirts at Moody's ?" said he to an acquaintance 
he met in the street; "what does this mean? I see it 
everywhere posted up. What does it mean ?" 

"0," was the reply, "that is another of the outrageous acts 
of this fellow Butler. This is one of the orders of which 
you hear so much. Don't you see? he has ordered us to get 
our shirts at Moody's, and we have to do so. It is, of course, 
suspected that he is a silent partner in the concern, and 
pockets the profits." 

The poor planter listened with eyes and mouth open and 
replied : 

" I don't need any shirts just now, and it's a great piece of 
tyranny ; but this Butler enforces his orders so savagely 
that it is better to give in at once." and accordingly he went 
to " Moody's" and purchased half a dozen shirts, — on com- 
pulsion. 



THE LIFE AND DEATH OF A PATEIOT SOLDIEE. 

A surgeon in one of the military hospitals at Alexan- 
di ia, writes in a private note : 

"Our wounded men bear their ^sufferings nobly; I have 
hardly heard a word of complaint from one of them. A 
soldier from the 'stern and rock-bound coast' of Maine — 
a victim of the slaughter at Fredericksburg — lay in this 
hospital, his life ebbing away from a fatal wound. He hnd 



A TOUCHING INCIDENT OF THE WAR. 231 

a father, brothers, sisters, a wife, a little boy of two or three 
years of age, on whom his heart seemed set. Half an hour 
before he ceased to breathe, I stood by his side, holding 
his hand. He was in the full exercise of his intellectual 
faculties, and was aware that he had but a very brief time 
to live. He was asked if he had any message to leave for 
his dear ones at home, whom he loved so well. ' Tell them/ 
said he, ' how I died — they know how I lived /' " 



A TOUCHING INCIDENT OF THE WAK. 

An interesting anecdote is related of Franklin, who, it is 
alleged, in order to test the parental instinct existing between 
mother and child, introduced himself as a belated traveler to 
his mother's house, after an absence of many years. Her 
house being filled with more illustrious guests than the 
unknown stranger, she refused him shelter, and would have 
turned him from her door. Hence, he concluded that this so- 
called parental instinct was a pleasant delusive belief, not 
susceptible of proof. 

The opposite of this occurred in Washington. In one of 
the fierce engagements with the rebels near Mechanicsville, a 
young lieutenant of a Ehode Island battery had his right 
foot so shattered by a fragment of shell that, on reaching 
Washington, after one of those horrible ambulance rides, and 
a journey of a week's duration, he was obliged to undergo 
amputation of the leg. He telegraphed home, hundreds of 
miles away, that all was going well, and, with a soldier's 
fortitude, composed himself to bear his sufferings alone. 

Unknown to him, however, his mother, one of those dear 



232 



A SICK EELATIYE. 



reserves of the army, hastened up to join the main force. 
She reached the city at midnight, and the nurses would have 
kept her from him until morning. One sat by his side, 
fanning him as he slept, her hand on the feeble fluctuating 
pulsations which foreboded sad results. But what woman's 
heart could resist the pleadings of a mother then ? In th 
darkness she was finally allowed to glide in and take the place 
at his side. She touched his pulse, as the nurse had done ; 
not a word had been spoken ; but the sleeping boy opened 
his eyes, and said : a That feels like my mother's hand ; who 
is this beside me ? It is my mother ; turn up the gas and 
let me see mother I" 

The two dear faces met in one long, joyful, sobbing embrace, 
and the fondness pent up in each heart sobbed and panted, 
and wept forth its expression. 

The gallant fellow, just twenty-one, his leg amputated on 
the last day of his three years' service, underwent operation 
after operation, and, at last, when death drew nigh, he was 
told by tearful friends that it only remained to make him 
comfortable, said, " he had looked death in the face too many 
times to be afraid now," and died as gallantly as did the men 
of the Cumberland. 



A SICK EELATIYE. 

General Rosecrans indulges occasionally in a witticism 
A lady called upon him for the purpose of procuring a pass, 
which was declined very politely. Tears came to the lady's 
eyes, as she remarked that her uncle was very ill, and might 
not recover. "Very sorry, indeed, madam," replied the 
general. " My uncle has been indisposed for some time. As 



A NIGHT SCENE AT FREDERICKSBURG. 



233 



e'oon as Uncle Sam recovers a little, you shall have a pass to 
go where you please." 



A NIGHT SCENE AT FEEDEKICKSBURGk 

The following graphic story was told by " Carleton," the 
accomplished correspondent : — 

" Fredericksburg, May 17, 1864. 

" The day is past. The cool night has come, refreshing 
the fevered cheek, cooling the throbbing pulse, and soothing 
the aching wounds of the thousands congregated in this city. 
I have made it in part a day of observation, visiting the hos- 
pitals, and conversing with patients and nurses ; and now, 
wearied, worn, with nerves unstrung by sickening sights, T 
make an attempt to sketch the scenes of the day. 

" The city is a vast hospital ; churches, all public build- 
ings, private dwellings, stores, chambers, attics, basements, — 
all are occupied by patients, or are attended by medical 
officers, or by those who have come to take care of the 
wounded. All day long the trains of ambulances have been 
arriving from the field hospitals. There are but few wounded 
left at the front, — those only whom to move would be certain 
death. Those able to bear removal have been sent in, that 
the army may move on to finish its appointed work. 

" A red flag is flung out at the Sanitary Commission 
rooms — a white one at the rooms of the Christian Commis- 
sion. There are three hundred volunteer nurses in attend- 
ance. The Sanitary Commission have fourteen wagons 
bringing supplies from Belle Plain. The Christian Commis- 
sion has less transportation facilities, but in devotion, in hard 
work, in patient effort, it is the compeer of its more bounti 



234 A NIGHT SCENE AT FREDERICKSBURG. 

fully supplied neighbor. The nurses are divided into details, 
— some for day service, some for night work. Each state has 
its relief committee. 

" Governor Smith, of Vermont is here ; Senator Sprague, 
of Rhode Island ; Senator Sherman, of Ohio ; Senator Porne- 
roy, of Kansas; Ex-Mayors Bunton and Smyth, of Manchester, 
1ST. H. ; Ex-Mayor Fay, of Chelsea ; Rev. Mr. Means, of Rox- 
bury ; and scores of men, aside from the Commissions' nurses, 
doing what they can to relieve the necessities, and alleviate 
the sufferings, of the wounded. 

" How patient the brave fellows are ! Not a word of com- 
plaint, but thanks for the slightest favor. There has been a 
lack of crutches. This morning I saw a soldier of a California 
regiment, an old soldier who fought with the lamented Baker 
at Ball's Bluff, and who has been in more than twenty battles, 
and who, till Thursday last, has escaped unharmed, hobbling 
about with the arms of a settee nailed to strips of board. 
His regiment went home to-day, its three years of service 
having expired. It was bat a score or two of weather-beaten, 
battle-scarred veterans. The disabled comrade could hardly 
keep back the tear as he saw them pass down the street 
' Few of us left. The bones of the boys are on every battle- 
field where the Army of the Potomac has fought,' said he. 

" There was a sound of the pick and spade in the church- 
yard, a heaving up of new earth — a digging of trenches, not 
for defence against the enemy, but the preparation of the last 
resting-place of departed heroes. There they lie — a dozen 
of them — each wrapped in his blanket — the last bivouac 
For them there is no more war — no charges into the thick, 
leaden raindrops — no more hurrahs — no more cheering of the 
dear old flag, bearing it onward to victory. They have 
fallen, but the victory is theirs, theirs the roll of eternal 



A NIGHT SCENE AT FREDERICKSBURG. 



235 



honor, One by one — side by side — men from Massachusetts, 
and from Pennsylvania, and from Wisconsin — from all the 
States, resting in one common grave. Peace to them — bless- 
ings on those whom they have left behind ! 

" Go into the hospitals, — armless, legless men, wounds of 
every description. Men on the hard floor, on the hard seats 
of church pews, lying in one position all day, unable to stir 
till the nurse going the rounds comes to their aid. They 
must wait till their food comes. Some must be fed with a 
spoon, as if they were little children. 

" i that we could get some straw for the brave fellows/ 
said Kev. Mr. Kimball, of the Christian Commission. He 
had wandered about town, searching for the article. ' There 
is none to be had. We shall have to send to Washington 
for it.' 

" 4 Straw ! I remember two stacks, four miles out on the 
Spottsylvania road. I saw them last night as I galloped in 
from the front.' 

" Armed with a requisition from the provost-marshal to 
seize two stacks of straw, with two wagons driven by intelli- 
gent contrabands, four Christian Commission delegates, and 
away we went across the battle-field of December — fording 
Hazel Run — gained the heights, and reached the straw stacks, 
owned by Rev. Mr. Owen. 

" 'By whose authority do you take my property ?' 

" ' The provost-marshal's, sir.' 

" Rev. Mr. Kimball was on the stack pitching it down. I 
was pitching it in, and the young men were stowing it away. 
" 1 Are you going to pay me for it V 

" * You must see the provost-marshal, sir. If you are a 
loyal man, and will take the oath of allegiance, doubtless you 
will get your pay.' 



236 



A NIGHT SCENE AT FREDERICKSBURG. 



" ' It is pretty hard. My children are just ready to starve. 
I have nothing for them to eat, and you come to take my 
property without paying for it.' 

" * Yes, sir ; war is hard. You must remember, sir, that 
there are thousands of wounded men — your wounded as well 
as ours. If your children are on the point of starving, those 
men are on the point of dying. We must have the straw for 
them. What we don't take to-night we will get in the 
morning. Meanwhile, sir, if anybody attempts to take it, 
please say to them that it is for the hospital, and they can't 
have it.' 

"Thus with wagons stuffed we leave Eev. Mr. Owen, and 
return to make glad the hearts of several thousand men. 0, 
how they thank us ! 

" 1 Did you get it for me ? God bless you, sir !' 

" It is evening. Thousands of soldiers, just arrived from 
Washington, have passed through the town to take their 
places in the front. The hills all around are white with 
innumerable tents and thousands of wagons. 

" A band is playing lively airs to cheer the wounded in 
the hospitals. I have been looking in to see the sufferers. 
Two or three have gone. They will need no more attention. 
A surgeon is at work upon a ghastly wound, taking up the 
arteries. An attendant is pouring cold water upon a swollen 
limb. In the Episcopal church a nurse is bolstering up a 
wounded officer in the area behind the altar. Men are lying 
in the pews, on the seats, on the floor, on boards on the top 
of the pews. 

" Two candles in the spacious building throw their feeble 
rays into the dark recesses, faintly disclosing the recumbent 
forms. There is heavy, stifled breathing, as of constant effort 
to suppress involuntary cries extorted by acutest pain 



A NIGHT SCENE AT FREDERICKSBURG. 



237 



Hard it is to see them suffer and not be able to relieve 
them. 

" Passing into the street, you see a group of women, talking 
about our wounded — rebel wounded who are receiving their 
especial attention. The provost- marshal's patrol is going its 
rounds to preserve order. 

" Starting down the street, you reach the rooms of the 
Christian Commission. Some of the men are writing, some 
eating their rations, some dispensing supplies. Passing 
through their rooms, you gain the grounds in the rear — a 
beautiful garden once — not unattractive now. The air is 
redolent with honeysuckle and locust blossoms. The penni- 
folia is unfolding its delicate milk-white petals — roses are 
opening their tinted leaves. 

" Fifty men are gathered round a summer-house — warm- 
hearted men — who have been all day in the hospitals. Their 
hearts have been wrung by the scenes of suffering, in the 
exercise of Christian charity imitating the example of the 
Eedeemer of men. They have given bread for the body and 
food for the soul. They have given cups of cold water in the 
name of Jesus, and prayed with those departing to the silent 
land. The moonlight shimmers through the leaves of the 
locust. 

"The little congregation breaks into singing — 

* Come, thou fount of every blessing.' 

"After the hymn, a chaplain says: 1 Brethren, I had service 
this afternoon in the first division hospital of the second 
corps. The surgeon in charge, before prayer, asked all who 
desired to be prayed for to raise their ' hands ; and nearly 
every man who had a hand raised it. Let us remember them 
in our prayers to-night/ 

" A man in the summer-house — so far off that I cannot dis 



238 



A MOHAMMEDAN COLONEL. 



tinguish him in the shadow — says: 'There is manifestly a 
spirit of prayer among the soldiers of the second division of 
the sixth corps hospital. Every man there raised his hand 
for prayers !' 

" Similar remarks are made by others, and then there are 
earnest prayers offered that (rod will bless them, relieve their 
sufferings, give them patience, restore them to health ; that 
He will remember the widow and fatherless far away — that 
Jesus may be their Friend. 

"Ah! this night scene! There was an allusion, by one 
who prayed, to the garden scene of Gethsemane — the blood 
of the Son of God, and in connection to the blood shed for 
our country. You who are far away can understand but lit- 
tle of the reality of these scenes. Friends, everywhere, you 
have given again and again, but continue to give — you can- 
not repay these brave defenders of our country. Give as 
God has prospered you, and great shall be your reward. — 
Faint, feeble, tame, lifeless is this attempt to portray the 
scenes of a day at Fredericksburg. Picture it as you may, 
and you will fall short of the reality." 



A MOHAMMEDAN" COLONEL. 

A well-known colonel in the Union service, who bad 
been injured several times in various actions during the wai 
received, at the battle of Fort Fisher, a wound which was 
considered fatal. As usual in such cases, the chaplain 
approached him, and was about offering words of consolation, 
when the wounded colonel interrupted him with, " Pass on. 
Cm a Mohammedan." 



THE SNOW AT FREDERICKSBURG. 

T1IE SNOW AT FKEDEKICKSBUKG. 
Drift over the slopes to the sunrise land, 

Oh wonderful, wonderful snow ! 
Oh ! pure as the breast of a virgin saint, 

Drift tenderly, soft, and slow ! 
Over the slopes of the sunrise land, 

And into the haunted dells 
Of the forests of pine, where the robbing winds 

Are tuning their memory bells. 

Into the forests of sighing pines, 

And over those yellow slopes, 
That seem but the work of the cleaving plough, 

That cover so many hopes ! 
They are many indeed, and straightly made, 

Not shapen with loving care ; 
But the souls let out and the broken blades 

May never be counted there ! 

Fall over those lonely hero graves, 

Oh delicate, dropping snow ! 
Like the blessing of God's unfaltering love 

On the warrior heads below ! 
Like the tender sigh of a mother's soul, 

As she waiteth and watcheth for One 
Who will never come back from the sunrise lane 

When the terrible war is done. 

And here, where lieth the high of heart, 

Drift — white as the bridal veil 
That will never be borne by the drooping girl 

Who setteth afar, so pale. 
Fall, fast as the tears of the suffering wife, 

Who stretcheth despairing hands 
Out to the blood-rich battle-fields 

That crimson the eastern sands. 



240 



RECOLLECTIONS OF GRANT. 



Fall in thy virgin tenderness, 

Oh delicate snow ! and cover 
The graves of our heroes, sanctified, — 

Husband and son and lover ! 
Drift tenderly over those yellow slopes, 

And mellow our deep distress, 
And put us in mind of the shriven souls 

And their mantles of righteousness ! 



RECOLLECTIONS OF GRANT. 

Eev. J. L. Crane, the chaplain of the regiment of which 
Lieutenant-General Grant was colonel, gives the following 
interesting reminiscences of his private and military charac- 
ter 

" Grant," he says, " is about five feet ten inches in height, 
and will weigh one hundred and forty or forty -five pounds. 
He has a countenance indicative of reserve, and an indomita- 
ble will, and persistent purpose. 

" In dress he is indifferent and careless, making no preten- 
sions to style or fashionable military display. Had he contin- 
ued colonel till now, I think his uniform would have lasted 
till this day; for he never used it except on dress parade, and 
then seemed to regard it a good deal as David did Saul's 
armor. 

"'His body is a vial of intense existence;' and yet when a 
stranger would see him in a crowd he would never think of 
asking his name. He is no dissembler. He is a sincere, 
thinking, real man. 

"He is always cheerful. No toil, cold, heat, hunger, fa 
Ugue, or want of money, depresses him. He does his work at 



RECOLLECTIONS OF GRANT. 



241 



the time, and he requires all under his command to be equally 
prompt. I was walking over the camp with him one morn- 
ing after breakfast. It was usual for each company to call 
the roll at a given hour. It was now probably a half hour 
after the time for that duty. The colonel was quietly smok- 
ing his old meerschaum, and talking and walking along, 
when he noticed a company drawn up in line and the roll 
being called. He instantly drew his pipe from his mouth 
and exclaimed, ' Captain, this is no time for calling the roll. 
Order your men to their quarters immediately.' The com- 
mand was instantly obeyed, and the colonel resumed his 
smoking and walked on, conversing as quietly as if nothing 
had happened. For this violation of discipline those men 
went without rations that day, except what they gathered up 
privately from among their friends of other companies. Such 
a breach of order was never witnessed in the regiment after- 
ward while he was its colonel. This promptness is one of 
Grant's characteristics, and it is one of the secrets of his suc- 
cess. 

"On one of our marches, when passing through one of 
these small towns where the grocery is the principal establish- 
ment, some of the lovers of intoxication had broken away 
from our lines and filled their canteens with whiskey, and 
were soon reeling and ungovernable under its influence. 
While apparently stopping the regiment for rest, Grant passed 
quietly along and took each canteen, and wherever he de- 
tected the fatal odor, emptied the liquor on the ground with 
as much nonchalance as he would empty his pipe, and had the 
offenders tied behind the baggage wagons till they had 
sobered into soldierly propriety. On this point his orders 
were imperative : no whiskey nor intoxicating beverages were 
allowed in his camp. 



242 



RECOLLECTIONS OF GRANT. 



"In the afternoon of a very hot day in July, 1861, while 
the regiment was stationed in the town of Mexico, Missouri, 
I had gone to the cars as they were passing, and procured the 
daily paper, and seated myself in the shadow of my tent to 
read the news. In the telegraphic column I soon came to the 
annouL cement that Grant, with several others, was made 
brigadier-general. In a few minutes he came walking that 
way, and I called to him : 

" ' Cclonel, I have some news here that will interest you.' 

" ' What have you, chaplain ?' 

" ' I see that you are made brigadier-general.' 

rt He seated himself by my side and remarked : 

" ' Well, sir, I had no suspicion of it. It never came from 
any request of mine. That's some of Washburne's work. I 
knew Washburne in Galena. He was a strong Eepublican, 
and I was a Democrat, and I thought from that he never liked 
me very well. Hence we never had more than a business or 
street acquaintance. Bat when the war broke out I found 
he had induced Governor Yates to appoint me mustering 
officer of the Illinois volunteers, and after that had something 
to do in having me commissioned colonel of the twenty-first 
regiment ; and I suppose this is some of his work.' 

"And he very leisurely rose up and pulled his black felt 
hat a little nearer his eyes, and made a few extra passes at 
his whiskers, and walked away with as much apparent un- 
concern as if some one had merely told him that his new suit 
of clothes was finished. 

" Grant belongs to no church, yet he entertains and ex- 
presses the highest esteem for all the enterprises that tend to 
promote religion. When at home he generally attended the 
Methodist Episcopal church. While he was colonel of the 
twenty-first regiment, he gave every encouragement and 



AN OBSERVING NEGRO. 



243 



facility for securing a prompt and uniform observance of 
religious services, and was found in the audience listening to 
preaching. 

u Shortly after I came into the regiment our mess were 
one day taking their usual seats around the dinner-table, 
wt pd he remarked : 

11 Chaplain, when I was at home, and ministers were stop- 
ping at my house, I always invited them to ask a blessing at 
the table. I suppose a blessing is as much needed here as at 
home ; and if it is agreeable with your views, I should be 
glad to have you ask a blessing every time we sit down 
to eat.' " 



TIME TO LEAYE. 

One of the " contrabands," who found his way to Boston 
with returning troops, related his experience on the battle- 
field as follows : " Ye see, massa, I was drivin' an ambulance, 
when a musket-ball come and kill my horse ; and den, pretty 
soon, the shell come along, and he blow my wagon all to 
pieces — and den I got off!" 



AN OBSERYING NEGRO. 

A fine-looking negro went into the Union lines on the 
Potomac, and reported himself for work. 

" Where are you from?" asked the officer on duty. 
" Culpepper Court House, sar." 
u What's the news down there ?" 



244 



TRUE TO THE UNION. 



" Nothin' massa, 'cept dar's a man down dar lost a mighty 
good and valuable nigger dis morning, and I reckon he dun 
lose more afore night." 



ANECDOTE OF PKESIDENT LINCOLN. 

A lieutenant, whom debts compelled to leave his father 
land and service, succeeded in being admitted to the late Pre 
sident Lincoln, and, by reason of his commendable and win- 
ning deportment and intelligent appearance, was promised a 
lieutenant's commission in a cavalry regiment. He was so en- 
raptured with his success, that he deemed it a duty to inform 
the President that he belonged to one of the oldest noble 
houses in Germany. "0, never mind that," said Mr. Lincoln. 
" you will not find that to be an obstacle to your advance- 
ment." 



TKUE TO THE UNION 

There are many names in Tennessee, and particularly in 
the eastern portion of that State, which the loyal people will 
not let die. They will be read and thought of in the far 
future as the present generation look back at the demigods 
of the Eevolution. A letter from Cincinnati, of recent date, 
gives some account of one of those noble-hearted Tennessee- 
ans : and as the story came from the lips of a dying man, it 
is probably truthful. The writer states that among the rebel 
prisoners at Camp Dennison, Ohio, was one named Neil, who, 
when asked how he came to be a rebel, stated that the seces- 
sionists scared him into it. 



TRUE TO THE UNION. 



245 



He had been a postmaster in Yan Buren County, Tennes- 
see, and a Union man. The rebels held three elections in 
that county, but got hardly a solitary vote in Neil's precinct. 
Enraged at this, they imported a force of soldiers, and began 
to lynch unarmed Unionists. This style of proceedure made 
some converts, but it was withstood, Among the victims 
Neil spoke of — and as he knew that he was dying, he reminded 
his hearers of his obligation to speak the simple truth — was 
the martyr patriot whose history he thus recited : — ■ 

" There was in Yan Buren County an old Methodist 
preacher of a great deal of ability, named Ca vender. He 
was from the first a most determined Union man ; and as his 
influence in the county was great, they determined to make an 
example of him, and get him out of the way. So they took 
him out of his house, pat a rope round his neck, set him 
upon a horse, and led him into a forest. They then told 
him that unless he would publicly renounce his Unionism, 
they would hang him. Cavender replied, ' God gave me my 
breath to bear witness to his truth ; and when I must turn it 
to the work of lies and crime, it is well enough to yield it up 
to Him who gave it.' 

" They then asked him if he had any parting request. He 
said 1 he had no hope that they would attend to any thing 
he might ask.' They said they would. He then desired that 
they would take his body to his daughter, with the request 
that she would lay it beside the remains of his wife. They 
then said, 1 It's time to go to your prayers.' He replied, 
1 1 am not one of the sort who has to wait until a rope is 
round his neck to pray.' Then they said, ' Come, old man, 
no nonsense ; if you don't swear to stand by the Confederacy, 
you'll have to hang,' at the same time tying the rope to a 
blanch. 



246 



THE COMMON SOLDIER. 



" The old man said, 1 Hang away.' One then gave a blow 
with a will, to the horse upon which Cavender sat; the horse 
sprang forward, and the faithful servant of God and his coun- 
try passed into eternity. You will remember that they said 
they would fulfil his last request. Well, they tore the flesh 
off his bones and threw it to the hogs ; his heart was cut out, 
and lay in a public place till it rotted. Can it be wondered 
if few are strong enough to resist their only legitimate argu- 
ment for rebellion ?" 



TEE COMMON SOLDIER. 

Nobody cared, when he went to war, 

But the woman who cried on his shoulder; 

Nobody decked him with immortelles; 
He was only a common soldier. 

Nobody packed in a dainty trunk 

Folded raiment and officer's fare ; 
A knapsack held all the new recruit 

Might own, or love, or eat, or wear. 

Nobody gave him a good-by fete, 

With sparkling jest and flower-crowned wine ; 
Two or three friends on the sidewalk stood 

Watching for Jones, the fourth in line. 

Nobody cared how the battle went 

With the man who fought till the bullet sped 
Through the coat undecked with leaf or star 

On a common soldier left for dead. 

The cool rain bathed the fevered wound, 

And the kind clouds wept the livelong night: 



THE COMMON SOLDIER. 



247 



-A pit}dng lotion Nature gave, 

Till help might come with morning light — 

Such help as the knife of the surgeon gives, 
Cleaving the gallant arm from shoulder ; 

And another name swells the pension-list 
For the meagre pay of a common soldier. 

See, over yonder all day he stands — 
An empty sleeve in the soft wind sways, 

As he holds his lonely left hand out 
For charity at the crossing ways. 

And this is how, with bitter shame, 
He begs his bread and hardly lives ; 

So wearily ekes out the sum 

A proud and grateful country gives. 

What matter how he served the guns 

When plume and sash were over yonder ? 

What matter though he bore the flag 

Though blinding smoke and battle thunder ? 

What matter that a wife and child 
Cry softly for that good arm rent ? 

And wonder why that random shot 
To him, their own beloved, was sent ? 

O patriot hearts, wipe out this strain ; 

Give jewelled cup and sword no more ; 
But let no common soldier blush 

To own the loyal blue he wore. 

Shout long and loud for victory won 
By chief and leader staunch and true ; 

But don't forget the boys that fought— 
Shout for the common soldier too. 



SOMETHING FOR EVERYBODY. 



OUTFLANKED FOR ONCE. 

When General Sherman was in command at Benton 
Barracks, St. Louis, he was in the habit of visiting every 
part of that institution, and making himself familiar with 
every thing that was going on. He wore an old brown coat 
and "a stove-pipe hat," and was not generally recognized 
by the minor officials or the soldiers. One day, while walk- 
ing through the grounds, he met with a soldier who was un- 
mercifully beating a mule. 

"Stop pounding that mule!" said the general. 

" Git eout !" said the soldier, in blissful ignorance of the 
person to whom he was speaking. 

" I tell you to stop," reiterated the general. 

" You mind your business and I will mind mine," replied 
the soldier, continuing his flank movement upon the mule. 

"I tell you again to stop I" said General S. "Do you know 
who I am ? — I am General Sherman." 

"That's played out!" said the soldier. Every man who 
comes along here with an old brown coat and a stove-pipe 
hat on claims to be General Sherman." 

It is presumed that for once General Sherman considered 
himself outflanked. 



SOMETHING FOR EYERYBODY. 

Not long after the issue of his proclamation of emancipa- 
tion, the President had a fit of illness, though happily of 
short duration. Nothwithstanding this disability, however, 
he was greatly bored by visitors. The Honorable Mr. Blow 



SOMETHING FOR EVERYBODY . 



24U 



hard and the Honorable Mr. Toolittle did not fail to call on 
his excellency, to congratulate him on his message and his 
proclamation ; gentlemen in the humble walks of civil life 
were at the capital for the first time, and couldn't leave with- 
out seeing the successor of George Washington ; persons 
with axes to grind insisted upon a little aid from the great 
American rail-splitter ; and between them all they gave the 
convalescent Chief Magistrate very little leisure or peace of 
mind. One individual, whom the President knew to be 
a tedious sort of customer, called at the White House about 
this time, and insisted upon an interview. Just as he had 
taken his seat, Mr. Lincoln sent for his physician, who im- 
mediately made his appearance. 

" Doctor," said he, holding out his hand, " what are those 
marks ?" 

" That's varioloid, or mild small pox," said the doctor. 
" They're all over me ! It is contagious, I believe," said 
Mr. Lincoln. 

" Yery contagious, indeed," replied the Esculapian at 
tendant. 

" Well, I can't stop, Mr. Lincoln ; I just called to see how 
you were," said the visitor. 

"Oh, don't be in any hurry, sir!" placidly remarked the 
executive. 

" Thank you, sir, I'll call again," replied the visitor, 
executing a masterly retreat from a fearful contagion. 

" Do sir," said the President. " Some people said they 
couldn't take very well to my proclamation, but now, I am 
happy to say, I have something that everybody can take." 
By this time the visitor was making a desperate break for 
Pennsylvania Avenue, which he reached on the doubJe 
quick. 



250 



TRACTS VS. POUND CAKES. 



TRACTS vs. POUND CAKES. 

A secession lady visited the hospital at Nashville, one 
morning, with a negro servant, who carried a large basket on 
his arm, covered with a white linen cloth. She approached 
a German, and accosted him thus : — 

" Are you a good Union man ?" 

"I ish dat," was the laconic reply of the German, at the 
same time casting a hopeful glance at the basket aforesaid. 

"That is all I wanted to know," replied the lady, and 
beckoning to the negro to follow, she passed to the opposite 
side of the roor^i, where a Confederate soldier lay, and asked 
him the same question, to which he very promptly replied : 

" Not by a sight." The lady thereupon uncovered the 

basket, and laid out a bottle of wine, mince pies, pound cake 
and other delicacies, which were greedily devoured in the 
presence of the soldiers, who felt somewhat indignant at such 
un-Samaritan-like conduct. 

On the following morning, however, another lady made 
her appearance with a large covered basket, and she, also, 
accosted our German friend, and desired to know if he was a 
Union man. 

"I ish, by Got; I no care what you got ; I bese Union." 

The lady set the basket on the table, and our German 
friend thought the truth had availed in this case, if it did not 
in the other. But imagine the length of the poor fellow's 
countenance, when the lady uncovered the basket, and pre- 
sented him with about a bushel of tracts. He shook his head, 
dolefully, and said : — 

" I no read English, and, beside, dat rebel on de oder side 
of 'se house need tern so more as me." 

The lady distributed them and left. 



MUSIC IN THE HOSPITAL. 



251 



Not long afterward along came another richly dressed 
lady, who propounded the same question to the German. 
He stood gazing at the basket, apparently at a loss for a 
reply. At length he answered her, in Yankee style, as 
follows : — 

" By Got, you no got me dis time ; vat you got mit the 
basket?" 

The lady required an unequivocal reply to her question, 
and was about to move on, when Teuton shouted out — 

u If you got tracts I bese Union ; but if you got mince pie 
mit pound cake unt vine, I be secesh like de tibel." 



MUSIC IN THE HOSPITAL. 

A YOUNG- lady was heard to say, " I wish I could do some 
tiling for my country; I would willingly become a nurse in 
a hospital, but I have not the physical strength. What can 
I do?" 

''You can sing," a friend replied. 

"Yes, I can sing, but what of that ?" 

" Go to one of the hospitals, and sing for the soldiers. ; 

The idea pleased her. She accompanied a friend who was 
long used to such visits, and who introduced her by saymg 
to the patients : 

" Here is a young lady who has come to sing for you." 

At the mere announcement, every face was aglow w^.th 
animation, every eye was riveted upon her with expectant 
pleasure. She sang a few songs, commencing with the 
glorious " Star Spangled Banner." As the thrilling note? of 
that song rang through the apartment, one poor man, who 



252 



MEDICINAL PROPERTIES OF BLANKETS. 



had been given up by the physician as an almost hopeless 
case, raised himself in his cot, leaned his head upon his 
hand, and drank in every note like so much nectar. The 
effect was electrical. From that moment he began to amend, 
and finally recovered. 



MEDICINAL PROPERTIES OF BLANKETS. 

In the month of December, 1863, a Vermont regiment 
was encamped beyond Arlington Heights, in Virginia. The 
men of the regiment were brawny and robust, but protracted 
exposure had occasioned an unusual degree of sickness 
among them; and application was made to the Sanitary 
Commission for supplies, medical and otherwise. The regi- 
ment, for some cause, had never been supplied with blankets, 
and many of the sick were consequently destitute of the 
most necessary protection from the cold. The wants of the 
men once discovered to the Sanitary Commission, arrange- 
ments were immediately made to supply them, and in a day 
or two one hundred and fifty blankets, were forwarded; 
blankets made and given, most of them, by the wives and 
sisters of volunteers. 

In this regiment was a private — Andrew, he may be 
called, — a large stalwart fellow, who had been broken down 
by severe service, and was considered by all as beyond hope 
of recovery. He had behaved with marked bravery in 
every engagement in which his regiment had participated, 
and was a universal favorite among his comrades. Though 
naturally courageous and stout-hearted, his physical prostra- 
tion had seriously affected his mind, and he was full of 
despondency, expecting momentarily to die. When the sup- 



MEDICINAL PROPERTIES OF BLANKETS. 



253 



plies of the Sanitary Commission were conveyed to the camp, 
the condition of this man was brought particularly to the 
attention of the agent having them in charge. He, full of 
sympathy for the suffering fellow, provided him with all pos- » 
sible comforts, such as fruits, medicines, and agreeable food, 
adding to his supplies a sick blanket, which he carefully 
folded over the patient, as he lay on his hard board bed 
The following day, visiting the regimental camp a second 
time, the agent was met by the colonel with the information 
that Andrews was much better, and promised, after all, to 
recover. 

*■ Would you believe it," said the colonel, " the sight of 
that blanket seemed to bring the fellow right back to life ; 
his whole manner brightened ; his very fingers grew nettle- 
some, clutching the blanket with a very ecstacy of delight." 

The agent hurried to the sick man's tent, and found him, 
indeed, vastly improved. His face brightened as the agent 
approached, but he did not take his gaze from the blanket. 
Presently, pointing with his long, thin finger, to a corner of 
the blanket, he whispered : — 

" That, sir, has been better medicine than all your hospital 
stuff. It has put new life into my veins ; if I'm ever a well 
man, it'll be because Grod sent me this blanket." 

The story of that blanket was a simple, and yet a surprising 
one. It had been made by the soldiers own wife, living far 
away among the Yermont hills, and had been sent with 
other contributions from the same neighborhood to the Sani- 
tary Commission. The woman was poor, her home was 
humble, but she had a true heart, and having nothing else to 
give, she had actually cut up the silk dress in which she was 
married, and applied it to the purpose in question. On one 
corner she had marked her name, and with that mark only 



254 MEDICINAL PROPERTIES OF BLANKETS. 



had sent it on its mission, little dreaming what coincidence 
would attend that mission. The blanket, laid with tender 
hands over the soldier, immediately caught his eye; the 
material seemed familiar; he had certainly seen it before, 
and that thought roused his whole nature. Presently, pulling 
up the corners to his face — he was too weak to raise himself— 
and passing the whole slowly before his eyes, he saw the 
name dearer to him than all the world besides ! In an instant 
the whole story of her sacrifice for the soldiers' sake was 
daguerreotyped upon his thought. What wonder that, under 
the flood of memories which that moment came over him, 
sweeping away all thoughts of self, all despondency and 
gloom, he grew hopeful again, realizing that he still had 
something to live for, and work to do — and all because of 
this precious gift ; a tonic which strengthened and saved him 
when nothing else, it may be, could have brought him safely 
through. 

Yes ! Andrews recovered ; and to his dying clay, undoubt- 
edly he will be a believer in the medicinal qualities of 
blankets. 

We know not the source of the above most touching nar- 
ration, but it sounds so much like the beautiful and winsome 
delineations penned by Mr. Coffin, (" Carleton,") author of 
that widely circulated work, " Days and Nights on the Battle- 
field," — contributed to the Boston Journal — that we may 
safely cite that graphically written volume as the repository 
of " more of the same sort." 



OWNING UP. 



255 



OWNING UP. 

Major MV&ee, at the head of a Union force, hunted up a 
great many secessionists of the rampant sort, in Southern 
Missouri, — so actively, indeed, as to nearly fill the various 
county jails. "When he caught one of this type, he said: — 

" Well, how much of a rebel have you been ? You know 
more about what you have done than I do. I know some, 
and you know it all." 

One old man said, as he trembled, " Major, I have not done 
any thing." 

"Stop," said the major, "you know you have got some 
powder hid." 

" Oh, yes, there is some." 

"Tell it all, now," said the major. 

u Well, I will. I have got twenty-one kegs of powder and 
one gun. I furnished four horses to Price, and w r ent down 
to Smith's Chapel to fight the Feds, and I have fed any 
amount of rebels. I won't lie any more ! You have got it 
all. I have done all I could to aid the South." 

The major had come down so hard on them that they 
feared to lie to him. Another man came in at the same time 
as the above, to take the oath. 

"Well, sir, what have you done?" 

"Nothing." 

" Well, sir, I will put you in jail for not doing something." 

After he had been in jail about two hours, he sent for the 
major, and told him where there were eleven kegs of powder, 
and a government wagon, and owned to helping cut up a 
ferry boat on the Missouri river, in the summer. 



256 



THE CAPTAINS "WIFE. 



THE CAPTAIN'S WIFE. 
We srathered roses, Blanche and I, for little Madge one morn 

" Like every soldier's wife," said Blanche, "I dread a soldier's 
fate." 

Her voice a little trembled then, as under some forewarning 
A soldier galloped up the lane, and halted at the gate. 

" Which house is Malcolm Blake's ?" he cried ; " a letter for his 
sister !" 

And when I thanked him, Blanche inquired, " But none for me 

his wife V 

The soldier played with Madge's curls, and stooping over, 
kissed hei : 

" Your father was my captain, child ! — I loved him as my ?ife !" 

Then suddenly he galloped off and left the rest unspoken. 
I burst the seal, and Blanche exclaimed, — " What makes you 
tremble so ?" 

What answer did I dare to speak ? How ought the news be 
broken ? 

I could not shield her from the stroke, yet tried to ease the 
blow. 

"A battle in the swamps," I said; "our men were brave, but 
lost it." 

And pausing there, — " The note," I said, "is not in Malcolm's 
hand." 

At first a flush flamed through her face, and then a shadow 
crossed it. 

" Read quick, dear May ! — read all, I pray — and let me under- 
stand !" 

I did not read it as it stood, — but tempered so the phrases 
As not at first to hint the worst, — held back the fatal word, 



TRUE SAMARITANISM-. 



257 



And half retold his gallant charge, his shout, his comrades' 
praises — 

Till like a statue carved in stone, she neither spoke nor stirred I 

Oh, never yet a woman's heart was frozen so completely ! 
So unbaptized with helping tears ! — so passionless and dumb ! 
Spellbound she stood, and motionless, — till little Madge spoke 
sweetly : 

" Dear mother, is the battle done? and will my father come ?" 

I laid my finger on her lips, and set the child to playing. 
Poor Blanche! the winter in her cheek was snowy like hei 
name ! 

What could she do but kneel and pray, — and linger at hei 
praying ? 

Christ ! when other heroes die, moan other wives the same ? 

Must other women's hearts yet break, to keep the Cause from 
failing ? 

God pity our brave lovers then, who face the battle's blaze ! 
And pity wives in widowhood ! — But it is unavailing ? 
O Lord ! give Freedom first, then Peace ! — and unto Thee be 
praise ! 



TEUE SAM ABIT AKESM. 

The n (rood Samaritan" is often heard of. He made his? 
appearance one day in a Jersey ferry omnibus, New York 
city, under the following circumstances : On one side of the 
vehicle, near the door, there was a sick soldier. Yery ill, 
wan, and emaciated he looked, with dark circles round his 
eyes, and the cape of his overcoat put up over his cap to 
keep off any breath of air, while his thin hands were bare to 
17 



258 "I AM PROUD TO DIE FOR MY COUNTRY." 



the winter cold. Some one got out who sat next him ; im- 
mediately the place was taken up by a man from the oppo- 
site side, who at once pulled off his own warm gloves and 
handed them to the soldier. The latter feebly attempted to 
decline them, but the other insisted, and he gratefully put 
them on, and looked at his well-covered hands with a sigh of 
satisfaction. The man (the Samaritan), was a plain, quiet- 
looking person, and did the little act of kindness without the 
slightest ostentation, as if it were purely a matter of course 
with him to clothe the naked. Nor was this all ; he asked 
where the soldier was going. The reply was, ''Albany." At 
the corner of Warren street the good man got down and 
deliberately lifted the poor fellow out in his arms with the 
greatest care, re-adjusted the cape of his coat over his head, 
and supported him to the sidewalk. The last seen of the 
stranger he was conducting the poor soldier down that street. 
Grod bless him. He was a noble specimen of the noble 
legions in the glorious Empire State, who, under the lead of 
that true-hearted man, Governor Morgan, gave their treasure 
and blood to save the nation's life, and made their names 
memorable in the annals of victorious warfare. All honor 
to such a State — to her good Samaritans and soldiers — to her 
noble rulers ! 



< 1 AM PKOUD TO DIE FOR MY COUNTRY." 

The eyes of a youth of tender years, by the name of Bill- 
iard, belonging to company A, eighth Illinois regiment, were 
closed in death, one spring morning, at the Marine Hospital 
in Cincinnati, by the kindly hands of that noble-hearted 
and faithful woman, Mrs. Caldwell — unwearied and ever 



TIGEES AND TREASON. 



259 



watchful in her personal attentions to the sick and wounded 
since the establishment of the " Marine" as a military hospi- 
tal. Young Bullard was shot at Fort Donelson. The bail, 
a Minie, tore his breast open, and lacerated an artery. He 
bled internally as well as externally. At every gasp, as his 
end drew near, the blood spirted from his breast. He expired 
at nine o'clock. Early in the day, when he became fully 
aware that he could not live long, he showed that he clung 
to life, and was loth to leave it ; bnt he cried : " If I could 
only see my mother — if 1 could only see my mother before I 
die, I would be better satisfied." He was conscious to the 
last moment, almost, and after reminding Mrs. Caldwell that 
there were several letters for his mother in his portfolio, she 
breathed words of consolation to him : " You die in a glori- 
ous cause — you die for your country." " Yes" replied he, 
" I am proixi to die for my country." 



TIGEES AKD TKEASOK 

Colonel Boernstein, a German commander at the west, 
became somewhat noted for his logical method of dealing 
with traitors. "While holding possession of Jefferson City, 
Missouri, his patriotic and magisterial traits were made con- 
spicuous by not a few well-remembered cases of summary 
discipline. One day be heard of a desperado being in town, 
from Clark township, who had led a company of disunionists 
known and dreaded as the " Tigers." 

" If anybodies will make ze affidavit," said Colonel B., " I 
will arrest him if he izh a tiger. I don't believe in tigers ; 
zey d d humbugs!" 



260 FULFILMENT OF THE SERGEANTS PROPHECY. 



Some one inquired of the colonel how long he should 
remain in that place. With a French shrug of the shoulder, 
he replied: 

" I don't know — perhaps a year ; so long as the governor 
chooses to stay away ; I am governor now, you see, 'till he 
come back." 

His notions of freedom of speech and the press, he gave 
expression to as follows : 

"All people zall speak vat dey tink — write vat dey pleaze, 
and be free to do anytink dey pleaze — only dey zall speak and 
write no treason /" 



FULFILMENT OF THE SEEGEANT'S PEOPHECY. 

Presentiments on the battle-field often prove prophetic 
Here is an instance : While Colonel Osterhaus was gallantly 
attacking the centre of the enemy, on the second day of the 
battle at Pea Eidge, a sergeant of the Twelfth Missouri re- 
quested the captain of his company to send his wife's portrait 
which he had taken from his bosom, to her address in St. 
Louis, with his dying declaration that he thought of her in 
his last moments. 

"What is that for?" asked his captain; "you are not 
wounded, are you ?" 

" No," answered the sergeant, " but I know I shall be killed 
to-day. I have been in battles before, but I never felt as I 
do now. A moment ago I became convinced my time had 
come, but how, I cannot tell. Will you gratify my request? 
Eemember I speak to you as a dying man." 

" Certainly, my brave fellow ; but you will live to a good 
old age with your wife. Do not grow melancholy over a 
fancY. or a dream 1" 



mrs. belmont's concert. 



261 



''You will see," was the response 

And so the treasured picture changed hands, and the ser- 
geant stepped forward to the front of the column, and was 
soon beyond recognition. 

At the camp-fire that evening the officers after a while 
made inquiry for the sergeant. He was not present. H 
had been killed three hours before by a grape-shot from one ^ 
of the enemy's batteries. 



MRS. BELMONT'S CONCERT FOR THE SANITARY 
COMMISSION. 

"While the New York Sanitary Fair was engaging the 
time and generous devices of the good people of that metro- 
polis, several ladies connected with it called upon Mrs. 
August Belmont, wife of the great banker, and requested her 
to hold a concert, for the benefit of the Fair, among her 
friends. She took it under advisement, and consented to do 
so, and made arrangements accordingly. She found her 
house would accommodate about three hundred guests. She 
issued her tickets for that number, at five dollars a ticket. 
She was shortly visited by the same committee, who informed 
her that the price of tickets must not exceed two dollars each. 
They were informed that Mrs. Belmont's friends would as 
soon give five or ten dollars as two — that the house was small, 
the expense would be the same, and the receipts to the Fair 
very much diminished. But the lady managers were persist- 
ent — two dollars and no more must be the extent, or they 
would have nothing to do with the concert. Mrs. Belmont, 
having rruch of the spirit of her heroic father, informed the 



262 "i'ye enlisted, sir." 

ladies that she was competent to manage her own aflairs in 
her owd house, and that they might consider themselves as 
discharged from all further duty in regard to her concert. 
Her husband, on learning this state of affairs, handed his wife 
fifteen hundred dollars in greenbacks, took all her tickets 
and carried them down town, sold some and gave the rest 
away to his friends, and made ample provision to have the 
concert a success. It came off; the rooms were brilliant and 
crowded ; the beauty and fashion and wealth of New York 
were there in all their glory ; Gottschalk and kindred per- 
formers charmed the brilliant audience, and Mrs. Belmont 
had fifteen hundred dollars in her hands to contribute to the 
Sanitary Commission. 



"I'VE ENLISTED SIR." 

A wealthy citizen of Philadelphia had been supplied 
with butter twice a week by a young farmer livrig on the 
edge of Philadelphia county. He came on one of his usual 
days to the house with his butter, received his pay, and then 
asked for a brief interview with the head of the household. 
The gentleman complied with the request thus made, and 
the young agriculturalist was duly ushered into the parlor. 

" I just wished to thank you, sir, for your custom for these 
three years, and to say that after to-day I cannot longer 
eerve you." 

" I'm sorry for that. Your butter and eggs have always 
been very fine. What's the matter ?" 
u I've enlisted, sir" 
" Enlisted?" 



RIGHT KIND OF GOVERNMENT. 



263 



" Y^s, sir. A mortgage of eleven hundred, dollars has 
been hanging over my place. I purchased it from a lady — 
Mrs. B." 

" Yes. I know her very well." 

"Well, sir, she holds the mortgage. She offered, last 
Saturday, if I would enlist as a representative substitute for 
her, and transfer my bounty to her, she would cancel the 
mortgage and present my wife with two hundred and fifty 
dollars in greenbacks." 

"And you accepted the offer ?" 

" Indeed I did, most gladly. I go for one year. I come 
back with a farm clear of incumbrance. My wife and boy 
can take care of it for a year. My pay will keep me, and 
my family can live without me for at least that time. Be- 
sides, I am glad to go. I wanted to go all along, but couldn't 
leave my folks." 

" And you are glad to go ?" 

"Indeed I am. I feel just as contented and free from care 
as my red cow when Sally is milking her. If I can be with 
Grant when he goes into Richmond, it will be the very 
happiest day of my life." 



RIGHT KIND OF GOVERNMENT TO BE ESTA- 
BLISHED DOWN SOUTH. 

Colonel Hanson, of the Kentucky second, was one of the 
prisoners that fell into Union hands at Fort Donelson. Not 
so taciturn as some of his comrades he entered into an 
animated conversation with the Union lieutenant who had 
him in charge, on " the situation," telling frankly some bad 
truth : — 



RIGHT KIND OF GOVERNMENT. 



Colonel. — Well, you were too hefty for us. 

Lieutenant. — Yes, but you were protected by these splendid 

defences. 

Col. — Your troops fought like tigers. 

Lieut. — Do you think now one Southern man can whip 
five Northern men ? 

Col. — Not Western men. Your troops are better tha~ 
Yankee troops — fight harder — endure more. The devil and 
all hell can't stand before such fellows. But we drove you 
back. 

Lieut. — Why didn't you keep us back ? 
Col. — You had too many reinforcements. 
Lieut. — But we had no more troops engaged in the fight 
than you had. 

Col. — Well, you whipped us, but you haven't conquered us. 
You can never conquer the South. 

Lieut. — We don't wish to conquer the South ; but we'll 
restore the Stars and Stripes to Tennessee, if we have to hang 
ten thousand such dare-devils as you are. 

Col. — Never mind, sir, you will never get up to Nashville. 

Lieut. — Then Nashville will surrender before we start. 

Col. — Well, well, the old United States flag is played out — 
we intend to have a right government down here. 

Lieut. — What am I to understand by a "right govern- 
ment ?" 

Col.— A. government based on property, and not a damned 
mechanic in it. 

Lieut — Do these poor fellows, who have been fighting for 
you, understand then that they have no voice in the u right 
government" that you seek to establish f 

Col — They don't care. They have no property to protect 



DELIVERED AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR. 265 



DELIVERED AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR. 

Major Fullerton, of General Granger's staff, developed 
quite a little romance in Shelbyville, Tennessee. Just as the 
Confederate forces were being driven out of the town, the 
general was on horseback galloping through one of the 
streets, and when passing an old dingy brick house almost 
hid from view by the cedar trees in the yard, he observed 
at a window in it a young lady in her robe de nuit, beckon- 
ing him toward her. Although advised not to stop, he 
wheeled his horse around and entered the yard. A he 
rebel endeavored to keep him from entering, while the lady 
called out to him that he must come. So, pushing Mr. Rebel 
to one side, the general at once passed into the house and 
entered the room where the lady was. She proved to be 
the beautiful Miss Cushman, then quite ill and prostrated by 
a nervous fever, brought on by the hardships, indignities 
and insults she had undergone. As he entered the room she 
caught him by the hand, and said — 

" Thank God, you all have come at last ; I am safe 1" 
Her story was short. Her wrongs and sufferings had been 
long. Two or three months previously, she had occasion 
to pass through the lines from Nashville to Shelbyville. 
When she arrived there, it was discovered by the secession 
authorities that she was a Unionist. These two circum- 
stances taken together were enough to convict her as a spy, 
under the arbitrary rulings of the Confederate Government 
She was arrested, tried, and condemned to be executed. 
She tried to make her escape to the Federal lines, but could 
not succeed. Before the day fixed for her execution, she 
was taken dangerously ill, and was then removed to the 
house in which she was discovered. They left Shelbyville 



266 



A WOMAN UNUER FIRE. 



in such haste that thej either forgot her or else th?y had not 
the transportation to carry her, — the only carriage that could 
be had ; carried General Bragg and family out ol town with 
great speed a few hours before the Federals eni sred. An 
ambulance was fitted up for Miss Cushman, and in it she 
was sent forward by her deliverers. 



A WOMAN UNDER FIRE. 

The millions who never heard the roar and c: ash of a 
great battle, but especially women, are naturally inte l ested in 
the feelings inspired — the sensations evoked, by th& actual 
and imminent presence of desperately contending armies. 
The battle of Gettysburg brought " the noise of the captains, 
and the shouting," nearer to the people of the Northern 
States than any other great combat of the present century ; 
and of the many personal reminiscences of that great strug- 
gle, the following, from the pen of Miss Carrie Sheades, of 
the Oak Ridge Seminary, will be found of peculiar interest. 
After speaking of the courage of the young ladies during the 
battle — their assistance in relieving the wounded, when no 
surgeon could be obtained — she says : — 

" "When our forces retreated from Seminary Ridge, many 
of the prisoners were taken here. At the time (though a 
coward before), it seemed that I was ready to meet the whole 
rebel army — every vestige of fear had vanished. A colonel 
rushed into the breakfast room, and a rebel after him, de- 
manding him to surrender. The colonel being a very large 
man, could scarcely breathe (he was asthmatical), and begged 
for time time to regain his breath : he told them to ' shoot 



NORTHERN SCHOOLMA'AMS IN GEORGIA. 267 



him,' — that he would not surrender, and, { if,' said he, 1 1 had 
my men here you could not take me.' 

" I saw that he would be shot if he resisted any longer, 
and while the rebels were contending with some prisoners in 
another part of the breakfast-room, I begged the colonel to 
go with him and I would save his sword. He consented, 
and I concealed his sword in the folds of my dress, and 
begged them to grant him five minutes, which was granted, 
and he assured me that he ' would be back for his sword.' 
It was a sad sight to see them take that gray-headed veteran, 
but it was a joyful sight to see him return to reclaim his 
sword, having gone with them as far as Monterey Springs, 
and escaped — ' rolled away from them,' he said, for he could 
not walk." 



NORTHERN" SCHOOLMA'AMS IN GEORGIA. 

A body of Federal prisoners had reached Rome, Georgia, 
en route for Richmond. Weary, famished, thirsting, they 
were herded like cattle in the street, under the burning sun, — 
a public show. It was a gala day in that modern Rome. 
The women, magnificently arrayed, came out and pelted them 
with balls of cotton, and with such characteristic feminine 
sneers and taunts as " So you have come to Rome, have you, 
you Yankees ? How do you like your welcome ?" — and 
then more cotton, and more words. The crowds and the 
hours came and went, but the mockery did not intermit, and 
the poor fellows were half out of heart. Major P., of an Ohio 
regiment, faint and ill, had stepped back a pace or two, and 
leaned against a post, when he was lightly touched upon the 
arm. As he looked around, mentally nerving himself for some 



268 NORTHERN SCHOOLMA'AMS IN GEORGIA. 



more ingenious insult, a fine-looking, well-dressed boy of 
twelve years stood at his elbow, his frank face turned up to 
the major's. With a furtive glance at a rebel guard, who 
stood with his back to them, the lad, pulling the major's shirt, 
and, catching his breath, boy-fashion, said : — 

" Are you from New England ?" 

" I was born in Massachusetts," was the reply. 

' So was my mother," returned the boy, brightening up 
" She was a New England girl, and she was what you call a 
' schoolma'am,' up north ; she married my father, and I'm 
their boy, but how she does love New England and the Yan- 
kees and the old United States, and so do I." 

The major was touched, as well he might be, and his heart 
warmed to the boy as to a young brother ; and he took out 
his knife, severed a button from his coat, and handed it to 
him for a remembrance. 

" Oh, I've got a half a dozen just like it. See here !" and 
he took from his pocket a little string of them, gifts of other 
boys in blue. "My mother would like to see you," he added, 
44 and I'll go and tell her." 

" What are you doing there /" growled the guard, suddenly 
wheeling around upon him, and the boy slipped away into 
the crowd, and was gone. Not more than half an hour 
elapsed before a lovely lady, accompanied by the little 
patriot, passed slowly down the sidewalk, next to the curb- 
stone. She did not pause, she did not speak ; if she smiled 
at all it was faintly ; but she handed to one and another of 
the prisoners bank notes as she went. As they neared the 
major, the boy gave him a significant look, as much as to 
say, "That's my New England mother." The eyes of the 
elegant lady, and the poor, weary officer met, for an instant, 
and she passed away, like a vision, out of sight. Who 



NORTHERN SCHOOLMA'AMS IN GEORGIA. 269 



would not join in fervently breathing two beatitudes . God 
bless the young Georgian, and blessed forever be the northern 
schoolma'am'! 

Yes, she was one of those Massachusetts ministers of wis- 
dom and goodness, so many of whom, under the inspiration 
of that great-hearted man, Governor Andrews, have left the 
old Bay State, and all its attractions of piety, literature, thrift, 
and refinement, to instruct and elevate the children of the 
South, and reclaim its vast moral wastes. 



< 



PART III. 

INCIDENTS OF PERSONAL DARING AND ADVENTURE. 



THE WAR CORRESPONDENT'S FIRST DAY. 

Looking- back over the four years of the war, and noting 
huw indurated I have at last become, both in body and emo- 
tion, I recall with a sigh that first morning of my correspond 
entship when I set out so light-hearted and yet so anxious. 
It was in 1861. I was accompanied to the war department 
by an attache of the United States Senate. The new Secretary, 
Mr. Edwin M. Stanton, referred me to a Mr. Sanford, " Military 
Supervisor of Army Intelligence," and after a brief delay I 
was requested to sign a parole and duplicate, specifying mv 
loyalty to the Federal Government, and my promise to pub- 
lish nothing detrimental to its interests. I was then given a 
circular, which stated explicitly the kind of news termed 
contraband, and also a printed pass, filled in with my name, 
age, residence, and newspaper connection. The latter en- 
joined upon all guards to pass me in and out of camps ; and 
authorized persons in government employ to furnish me with 
information. 
270 



THE WAR CORRESPONDENTS FIRST DAY. 271 



Our Washington superintendent sent me a beast, and in 
t^mpliment to what the animal might have been, called the 
same a horse. I wish to protest, in this record, against any 
such misnomer. The creature possessed no single equine 
element. Experience has satisfied me that horses stand on 
four legs ; the horse in question stood upon three. Horses 
may either pace, trot, run, rack, or gallop ; but mine made 
all the five movements at once. I think I may call his gait 
an eccentric stumble. That he had endurance I admit ; for 
he survived perpetual beating ; and his beauty might have 
been apparent to an anatomist,* but would be scouted by the 
world at large. I asked, ruefully, if I was expected to go 
into battle so mounted ; but was peremptorily forbidden, as 
a valuable property might be endangered thereby. I was as- 
signed to the Pennsylvania Eeserve Corps in the anticipated 
advance, and my friend, the attache, accompanied me to its 
rendezvous at Hunter's Mills. We started at two o'clock, 
and occupied an hour in passing the city limits. I calcu- 
lated that, advancing at the same ratio, we should arrive in 
camp at noon next day. We presented ludicrous figures to 
the grim sabremen that sat erect at street corners, and ladies 
at the windows of the dwellings smothered with suppressed 
laughter as we floundered along. My friend had the better 
horse ; but I was the better rider ; and if at any time T grew 
wrathful at my sorry plight, I had but to look at his and be 
happy again. He appeared to be riding on the neck of his 
beast, and when he attempted to deceive me with a smile, 
his face became horribly contorted. Directly his breeches 
worked above his boots, and his bare calves were objects of 
hopeless solicitude. Caricatures, rather than men, we toiled 
bruisedly through Georgetown, and falling in the wake of 
supply teams on the Leesburg turnpike, rode between the 



272 THE war correspondent's first day. 



Potomac on one side and the dry bed of the canal on the 
other, till we came at last to Chain Bridge. 

There was a grand view from the point of Little Falls 
above, where a line of foamy cataracts ridged the river, and 
the rocks towered gloomily on either hand : and of the city 
below, with its buildings of pure marble, and the yellow 
earthworks that crested Arlington Heights. The clouds 
over the Potomac were gorgeous in hue, but forests of melan- 
choly pine clothed the sides of the hills, and the roar of the 
river made such beautiful monotone that I almost thought it 
could be translated to words. * Our passes were now demand- 
ed by a fat, bareheaded officer, and while he panted through 
their contents, two privates crossed their bayonets before us. 

"News?" he said, in the shortest remark of which he was 
capable. When assured that we had nothing to reveal, he 
seemed immeasurably relieved, and added — " Great labor, 
reading I" At this his face grew so dreadfully purple that I 
begged him to sit down, and tax himself with no further 
exertion. He wiped his forehead, in reply, gasping like a 
iciton, and muttering the expressive direction, " right I" dis- 
appeared into a guard-box. The two privates winked as they 
removed their muskets, and we both laughed immoderately 
when out of hearing. Our backs were now turned to the 
Maryland shore, and jutting grimly from the hill before us, 
the black guns of Fort Ethan Allen pointed down the bridge 
A double line of sharp abatis protected it from assault, and 
sentries walked lazily up and down the parapet. The colors 
hung against the mast in the dead calm, and the smoke 
curled' straight upward from some log-huts within the fort. 
The wildness of the surrounding landscape was most remarka- 
ble. Within sight of the capital of the republic, the fox yet 
the covert, and the farms were few and far apart. It 



THE WAR CORRESPONDENT'S FIRST DAY. 



273 



seemed to me that little had been done to clear the country 
of its primeval timber, and the war had accomplished more 
to give evidence of man and industry, than two centuries of 
occupation. A military road had been cut through the solid 
rocks here; and the original turnpike, which had been little 
more than a cart track, was now graded and macadamized. 
1 passed multitudes of teams, struggling up the slopes, and 
the carcasses of mules littered every rod of the way. The 
profanity of the teamsters was painfully apparent. I came 
unobserved upon one who was berating his beasts with a re- 
finement of cruelty. He cursed each of them separately, 
swinging his long-lashed whip the while, and then damned 
the six in mass. He would have made a dutiful overseer. 
The soldiers had shown quite as little consideration for the 
residences along the way. I came to one dwelling where 
some pertinacious Yandal had even pried out the window- 
frames, and imperilled his neck to tear out the roof-beams ; a 
dead vulture was pinned over the door by pieces of broken 
bayonets. 

" Langley's," — a few plank houses, clustering around a 
tavern and a church, — is one of those settlements whose 
sounding names beguile the reader into an idea of their im- 
portance. A lonesome haunt in time of peace, it had lately 
been the winter quarters of fifteen thousand soldiers, and a 
multitude of log huts had grown up around it. I tied my 
horse to the window-shutter of a dwelling, and picked my 
way over a slimy sidewalk to the rickety tavern-porch. 
Four or five privates lay here fast asleep, and the bar-room 
was occupied by a bevy of young officers, who were empty- 
ing the contents of sundry pocket-flasks. Behind the bar sat 
a person with strongly-marked Hebrew features, and a watch- 
maker was plying his avocation in a corner. Two great dogs 
18 



274 THE WAR CORRESPONDENT'S FIRST DAT. 



crouched under a bench, and some highly-colored portraits 
were nailed to the wall. The floor was bare, and some 
clothing and miscellaneous articles hung from beams in the 
ceiling. 

" Is this your house ?" I said to the Hebrew. 

" I keepsh it now." 

u By right or by conquest ?" 

" By ze right of conquest," he said, laughing ; and at once 
proposed to sell me a boot-jack and an India-rubber over- 
coat. I compromised upon a haversack, which he filled with 
sandwiches and sardines, and which I am bound to say fell 
apart in the course of the afternoon. The watchmaker was 
an enterprising young fellow, who had resigned his place in 
a large Broadway establishment, to speculate in cheap jewelry 
and do itinerant repairing. He says that he followed the 
a army paymasters, and sold numbers of watches, at good 
premiums, when the troops had money." Soldiers, he in 
formed me, were reckless spendthrifts ; and the • prey of 
sutlers and sharpers. When there was nothing at hand to 
purchase, they gambled away their wages, and most of them 
left the service penniless and in debt. He thought it per- 
fectly legitimate to secure some silver while " going," but 
complained that the value of his stock rendered him liable to 
theft and murder. " There are men in every regiment," said 
he, " who would blow out my brains in any lonely place to 
plunder me of these watches." 

At this point, a young officer, in a fit of bacchanal laughter, 
staggered rather roughly against me. 

" Begurpardon," he said, with an unsteady bow, " never 
ran against person in life before." 

I smiled assuringly, but he appeared to think the offence 
unpardonable. 



I 




THE WAR CORRESPONDENT'S FIRST DAY. 



275 



*Do asshu a, on honor of gentlemand officer, not in custom 
ol behaving offensively. Azo ! leave it to my friends. En- 
tirely due to injuries received at battle Drainesville." 

As the other gentlemen laughed loudly here, I took it for 
granted that my apologist had some personal hallucination 
relative to that engagement. 

" AVhat giggling for, Bob ?" he said ; "honor concerned in 
this matter, Will ! Do asshu a, fell under colonel's horse, 
and company A walked over small of my back." 

The other officers were only less inebriated, and most of 
them spoke boastfully of their personal prowess at Draines- 
ville. This was the only engagemeni in which the Pennsyl- 
vania Eeserves had yet participated, and few officers that I 
met did not ascribe the victory entirely to their own in- 
dividual gallantry. I inquired of these gentlemen the route 
to the new encampments of the Eeserves. They lay five 
miles south of the turnpike, close to the Loudon and Hamp- 
shire railroad, and along both sides of an unfrequented lane. 
They formed in this position the right wing of the Army of 
the Potomac, and had been ordered to hold themselves in 
hourly readiness for an advance. By this time, my friend S. 
came up, and leaving him to restore his mortified body, I 
crossed the road to the churchyard and peered through the 
open door into the edifice. The seats of painted pine had 
been covered with planks, and a sick man lay above every 
pew. At the ringing of my spurs in the threshold, some of 
the sufferers looked up through the red eyes of fever, and 
the faces of others were spectrally white. A few groaned 
as they turned with difficulty, and some shrank in pain from 
the glare of the light. Medicines were kept in the altar- 
place, and a doctor's clerk was writing requisitions in t„e 
pulpit. The sickening smell of the hospital forbade me to 



276 THE WAR CORRESPONDENT'S FIRST DAT. 

enter, and walking across the trampled yard, I crept through 
a rent in the paling, and examined the huts in which the 
Eeserves had passed the winter. They were built of logs, 
plastered with mud, and the roofs of some were thatched 
with straw. Each cabin was pierced for two or more win- 
dows; the beds were simply shelves or berths; a rough 
fireplace of stones and clay communicated with the wooden 
chimney ; and the floors were in most cases damp and bare. 
Streets, fancifully designated, divided the settlement irrega 
larly; but the tenements were now all deserted save one, 
where I found a whole family of " contrabands " or fugitive 
slaves. These wretched beings, seven in number, had 
escaped from a plantation in Albemarle county, and travelling 
stealthily by night, over two hundred miles of precipitous 
country, reached the Federal lines on the thirteenth day. 
The husband said that his name was " Jeems," and tint his 
wife was called " Kitty ;" that his youngest boy had risked 
the mature age of eight months, and that the "big girl, 
Eosy," was "twelve years Christmas coinin'." While the 
troops remained at Langiey's, the man was employe i at 
seventy-five cents a week to attend to an officers horse 
Kitty and Eose cooked and washed for soldiers, and the T>oys 
ran errands to Washington and return, — twenty-five miles 
The eldest boy, Jefferson, had been given the use of a 
crippled team-horse, and traded in newspapers, but having 
confused ideas of the relative value of coins, his profits were 
only moderate. The nag died before the troops removed, 
and a sutler, under pretence of securing their passage to the 
north, disappeared with the little they had saved. They 
were quite destitute now, but looked to the future with no 
foreboding, and, huddled together in the straw, made a pie 
ture of domestic felicity that impressed me greatly with the 



THE WAR CORRESPONDENT'S FIRST DAY. 277 

docility, contentment, and unfailing good humor of their 
dusky tribe. The eyes of the children were large and 
lustrous, and they revealed the clear pearls beneath their 
lips as they clung bashfully to their mother's lap. The old 
lady was smoking a clay pipe ; the man running over some 
castaway jackets and boots. I remarked particularly th 
broad shoulders and athletic arms of the woman, whose many 
childbirths had left no traces upon her comeliness. She 
asked me, wistfully: "Masser, how fur to de nawf?" 

"A long way," said I, "perhaps two hundred miles." 

" Lawd !" she said, buoyantly — " is dat all ? Why, Jeems, 
couldn't we foot it, honey ?" 

"You a most guv out before, ole 'oman," he replied; "got 
a good ruff over de head now. Guess de white massar won't 
let um starve." 

I tossed some coppers to the children, and gave each a 
sandwich. 

" You get up dar, John Thomas !" called the man vigor- 
ously ; " you tank the gentleman, Jefferson, boy ! I wonda 
wha your manners is. Tank you, massar ! know'd you was 
a gentleman, sar ! Massar, is your family from ole Yir- 
ginny?" 

It was five o'clock when I rejoined S., and the greater 
part of our journey had y$t to be made. I went at his 
creeping pace until courtesy yielded to impatience, when 
spurring my Pegasus vigorously, he fell into a bouncing 
amble and left the attache far behind. My pass was again 
demanded above Langley's by a man who ate apples as he 
examined it, and who was disposed to hold a long parley. 
I entered a region of scrub timber further on, and met with 
nothing human for four miles, at the end of which distance 1 
reached Difficult Creek, flowing through a rocky ravine, and 



278 THE WAR CORRESPONDENT'S FIRST DAT. 

crossed by a military bridge of logs. Through the thbk 
woods to the right, I heard the roar of the Potomac, and a 
finger-board indicated that I was opposite Great Falls. 
Three or four dead horses lay at the roadside beyond the 
stream, and I recalled the place as the scene . of a recent 
cavalry encounter. A cartridge-box and a torn felt hat lay 
close to the carcases : I knew that some soul had gone hence 
to its account. 

The road now kept to the left obliquely, and much of my 
ride was made musical by the stream. Darkness closed 
solemnly about me, with seven miles of the journey yet to 
accomplish, and as, at eight o'clock, I turned from the turn- 
pike into a lonesome by-road, full of ruts, pools, and quick- 
sands, a feeling of delicious uneasiness for the first time 
possessed me. Some owls hooted in the depth of the woods, 
and wild pigs, darting across the road, went crashing into the 
bushes. The phosphorescent bark of a blasted tree glim- 
mered on a neighboring knoll, and, as I halted at a rivulet to 
water my beast, I saw a solitary star floating down the rip- 
ples. Directly I came upon a clearing where the moonlight 
shone through the rents of a crumbling dwelling, and from 
the far distance broke the faint howl of farm dogs. A sense 
of insecurity that I would not for worlds have resigned, now 
tingled, now chilled my blood. At last, climbing a stony 
hill, the skies lay beneath me reddening with flame of camps 
and flaring and falling alternately, like the beautiful northern 
lights. I heard the ring of hoofs, as I looked entranced, 
and in a twinkling, a body of horsemen dashed past me, and 
disappeared. A little beyond, the road grew so thick that T 
could see nothing of my way ; but trusting doubtfully to my 
horse, a deep challenge came directly from the thicket, and 1 
saw the flash of a sabre, as I stammered a reply. Led to a 



THE WAR CORRESPONDENT'S FIRST DAT. 279 



cabin, close at hand, my pass was examined by candle-light, 
and I learned that the nearest camp of the Eeserves was 
only a mile further on, and the regiment of which I was in 
quest about two miles distant. After another half hour, I 
reached Ord's brigade, whose tents were pitched in a fine 
grove of oaks; the men talking, singing, and shouting, 
around open air fires; and a battery of brass Napoleons 
unlimbered in front, pointing significantly to the west and 
south. For a mile and a half I rode by the light of continu- 
ous camps, reaching at last the quarters of the th, com- 
manded by a former newspaper associate of mine, with whom 
I had gone itemizing, scores of times. His regiment had 
arrived only the same afternoon, and their tents were not yet 
pitched. Their muskets were stacked along the roadside, 
and the men lay here and there wrapped in their blankets, 
and dozing around the fagots. The colonel was asleep in a 
wagon, but roused up at the summons of his adjutant, and, 
greeting me warmly, directed the cook to prepare a supper 
of coffee and fried pork. Too hungry to feel the chafing 
of my sores and bruises, I fell to the oleaginous repast with 
my teeth and fingers, and eating ravenously, asked at last to 
be shown to my apartments. These consisted of a covered 
wagon, already occupied by four teamsters, and a blanket 
which had evidently been in close proximity to the hide of 
a horse. A man named "Coggle," being nudged by the 
colonel, and requested to take other quarters, asked dolor- 
ously, if it was time to turn out, and roared " woa," as if he 
had some consciousness of being kicked. When I asked for 
a pillow, the colonel laughed, and I had an intuition that the 
man " Coggle" was looking at me in the darkness with 
intense disgust. The colonel said that he had once put a 
man on double duty for placing his head on a snowball, and 



230 



A STORY OF THE DRAFT. 



warned me satirically that such luxuries were preposterous 
in the field. He recommended me not to catch cold if I 
could help it, but said that people in camp commonly caught 
several colds at once, and added grimly, that if I wished to 
be shaved in the morning, there was a man close by, who 
had ground a sabre down to the nice edge of a razor, and wh 
could be made to accommodate me. There were cracks in 
the bottom of the wagon, through which the cold came like 
knives, and I was allotted a space four feet in length, by 
three feet in width. 

Being six feet in height, my relation to these Procrustean 
quarters was most embarrassing ; but I doubled up, chatter- 
ingly, and lay my head on my arm. In a short time I expe- 
rienced a sensation akin to that of being guillotined, and 
sitting bolt upright, found the teamsters in the soundest of 
Lethean conditions. As the man next to me snored very 
loudly, I adopted the brilliant idea of making a pillow of 
his thigh ; which answered my best expectations. I was 
aroused after awhile, by what I thought to be the violent 
hands of this person, but which, to my great chagrin, proved 
to be S., intent upon dividing my place with me. Eesistance 
was useless. I submitted to martyrdom with due resigna- 
tion, but half resolved to go home in the morning, and shun, 
for the future, the horrible romance of camps. 



A STOEY OF THE DEAFT. 

The enrolling officer of district, was very active and 

thorough in the performance of his duties. One day he went 
t:> the house of a countryman, and finding none of the mal« 



HURRAHS FOR JEFF DAVIS IN THE WRONG PLACE. 281 

members at home, he made inquiry of an old woman about 
the name and age of the "males" of the family. After 
naming several, the old lady stopped. " Is there any more ?" 
asked the officer. "No," replied the woman, "none, except 
Billy Bray." "Billy Bray? Where is he?" "He was at 
the barn a moment ago," said the old lady. Out went the 
officer, but he could not find the man. Coming back, the 
worthy officer questioned the old lady as to the age of Billy, 
and went away, after enrolling his name among those to be 
drafted. The time of drafting came, and among those on 
whom the draft fell was Billy Bray. No one knew him. 
Where did he live? The officer who enrolled him was 
called upon to produce the conscript ; and lo and behold, 
Billy Bray was a Jackass ! and stands now on the list of 
drafted men as forming one of the quota of Maryland. 



HURRAHS FOR JEFF DAYIS IN THE WRONG 
PLACE. 

One morning as a returned soldier named Thompson, 
residing in Washington, was engaged in conversation with 
some parties at a public house in Peoria, Illinois, an indi- 
vidual entered, and as he passed the soldier, shouted, 
" Hurrah for Jeff Davis !" In an instant the soldier turned 
and asked, "Did you shout for Jeff Davis?" The indi- 
vidual surveyed Thompson for a moment, and, seeing that 
he meant mischief replied that it was not he. " Well," said 
the soldier, " I believe that you did, and if I was sure of it 
I would give you cause to remember it." He again de- 
clared that he had not done so, when at this juncture one of 



282 ANECDOTE OF LIEUTENANT-GENERAL GRANT. 

the men Thompson had been conversing with, and who had 
always acted with the Democratic party, stepped up, saying 
to the soldier, "lam a Democrat, but I can't stand that ; he 
did hurrah for Jeff Davis, and now pitch into him." The 
veteran hesitated not a moment, and, though by far the 
smaller of the two, he went at the Jeff Davis sympathizer 
and administered a spirited and most thorough drubbing, 
concluding the performance by compelling him to shout 
twice as loud as he was able, for Abe Lincoln. Then allow- 
ing the fellow to get on his feet, he cautioned him never to 
repeat that operation again in his presence, saying — 

"I have fought rebels three years, and had a brother 
killed by just such men as you are, and whenever a traitor 
shouts for Jeff Davis in my hearing I will whip him or kill 
him." 



ANECDOTE OF LIEUT. GENERAL GRANT. 

The following is told by an officer of General Grant's 
staff : — 

The hero and veteran, who was citizen, captain, colonel, 
brigadier and major-general within the space of nine months, 
though a rigid disciplinarian, and a perfect Ironsides in the 
discharge of his official duties, could enjoy a good joke, and 
is always ready to perpetrate one when an opportunity 
presents. Indeed, among his acquaintances, he is as much 
renowned for his eccentric humor as he is for his skill and 
bravery as a commander. 

When Grant was a brigadier in southeast Missouri, he 
commanded an expedition against the rebels under Jefferson 
Thompson, in northeast Arkansas. The distance torn the 



ANECDOTE OF LIEUTENANT-GENERAL GEANT. 283 



starting-point of the expedition to the supposed rendezvous 
of the rebels was about one hundred and ten miles, and the 
greater portion of the route lay through a howling wilder- 
ness. The imaginary suffering that our soldiers endured 
during the first two days of their march was enormous. 
It was impossible to steal or "confiscate" uncultivated real 
estate, and not a hog, or a chicken, or an ear of corn was 
anywhere to be seen. On the third day, however, affairs 
looked more hopeful, for a few more specks of ground, in a 
state of partial cultivation, were here and there visible. On 
that day Lieutenant Wickfield, of an Indiana cavalry regi- 
ment, commanded the advance guard, consisting of eight 
mounted men. About noon he came up to a small farm 
house, from the outward appearance of which he judged that 
there might be something fit to eat inside. He halted his 
company, dismounted, and with two second lieutenants en- 
tered the dwelling. He knew that Grant's incipient fame 
had already gone out through all that country, and it oc- 
curred to him that by representing himself to bo the general 
he might obtain the best the house afforded. So assuming 
a very imperative demeanor, he accosted the iumates of the 
house, and told them he must have something for himself 
and staff to eat. They desired to know who he was, and he 
told them that he was Brigadier-General Grant. At the 
sound of that name they flew around with alarming alacrity, 
and served up about all they had in the house, taking great 
pains all the while to make loud professions of loyalty. The 
lieutenants ate as much as they could of the not over-sump- 
tuous meal, but which was, nevertheless, good for that 
country, and demanded what was to pay. " Nothing." And 
they went on their way rejoicing. 

In the meanwhile General Grant, who had halted h\» 



284 ANECDOTE OF LIEUTENANT-GENERAL GRANT. 



army a few miles further back for a brief resting spell, 
came in sight of and was rather favorably impressed with 
the appearance of this same house. Eiding up to the fence 
in front of the door, he desired to know if they could cook 
him a meal. 

" No," said a female, in a gruff voice ; "General Grant and 
his staff have just been here and eaten every thing in the 
house except one pumpkin pie." 

"Humph," murmured Grant. " What is your name?" 

" Selvidge," replied the woman. 

Casting a half-dollar in at the door, he asked if she would 
keep that pie till he sent an officer for it, to which she 
replied that she would. 

That evening, after the camping-ground had been selected, 
the various regiments were notified that there would be a 
grand parade at half-past six, for orders. Officers would see 
that their men all turned out, etc. 

In five minutes the camp was in a perfect uproar, and 
filled with all sorts of rumors ; some thought the enemy were 
upon them, it being so unusual to have parades when on a 
march. 

At half-past six the parade was formed, ten columns deep, 
and nearly a quarter of mile in length. 

After the usual routine of ceremonies the acting assistant 
adjutant-general read the following order : — 

Headquarters, Army in the Field. 
Special Order, No. — . 

Lieutenant Wickfield, of the Indiana cavalry, having 

on this day eaten every thing in Mrs. Selvidge's house, at the 
crossing of the Ironton and Pocahontas and Black Eiver and 
Cape Girardeau roads, except one pumpkin pie, Lieutenant 



CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES. 



285 



Wickfield is hereby ordered to return with an escort of one 
hundred cavalry and eat that pie &I<so. 

II. S. Grant, 
Brig.- Gen. Commanding. 

Grant's orders were law, and no soldier ever attempted to 
evade them. At seven o'clock the lieutenant filed out of 
camp, with his hundred men, amid the cheers of the entire 
army. The escort concurred in stating that he devoured the 
whole of the pie, and seemed to relish it. 



CIKCTJMSTANCES ALTEE CASES. 

A certain wealthy old planter, who used to govern a pre- 
cinct in Alabama, in a recent skirmish was taken prisoner, 
and at a late hour brought into camp, where a guard was 
placed over him. The aristocratic rebel, supposing every 
thing was all right — that he was secure enough any way as a 
prisoner of war — as a committee of the whole, resolved him- 
self into " sleep's dead slumber." Awakening about mid- 
night, to find the moon shining full in his face, he chanced to 
" inspect his guard," when, horror of horrors ! that soldier 
was a negro ! And, worse than all, he recognized in that 
towering form, slowly and steadily walking a beat, one o* 
his own slaves ! Human nature could not stand that ; the 
prisoner was enraged, furious, and swore he would not. 
Addressing the guard through clenched teeth, foaming at 
the mouth, he yelled out : — 

"Sambo!" 

" Well, massa." 

"Send for the colonel to come here immediately. My 



286 



SOLD. 



own slave can never stand guard over me ; it's a d — d out- 
rage ; no gentleman would submit to it." 

Laughing in his sleeve, the dark -faced soldier promptly 
called out, u corp'l de guard." That dignitary appeared, and 
presently the colonel followed. After listening to the south- 
erner's impassioned harangue, which was full of invectives, 
the colonel turned to the negro, with, 

" Sam !" 

" Yes, colonel." 

" You know this gentleman, do you?" 
" Ob course ; he's Massa B., and has big plantation in 
Alabama." 

" Well, Sam, just take care of him to-night !" and the 
officer walked away. As the sentinel again paced his beat, 
the gentleman from Alabama appealed to him in an argument. 

" Listen, Sambo !" 

" You hush, dar ; it's done gone talkin' to you now. Hush, 
rebel I" was the negro's emphatic command, bringing down 
his musket to. a charge bayonet position, by way of enforcing 
silence. The nabob was now a slave — his once valued negro 
his master ; and think you as he sank back upon a blanket, 
in horror and shame that night, that he believed human bon- 
dage was a divine institution, ordained of God ? 



SOLD. 

Soldiers are, it is well known, averse to the drill, and yet 
dislike to work still more. During the siege of Corinth it 
became necessary to go some ten miles over the worst of roads 
to Pittsburg Landing, to dr vw forage and provisions, and many 



BARBARA FRIETCHIE. 



287 



w ere the expedients resorted to by the boys to escape the hard 
task. One morning at roll-call the lieutenant said, "Any of 
the boys who would like a drill, step to the front." Not many 
came forward. " JSTow, you rear rank, men, each take a horse, 
go to the Landing, and bring back a sack of oats." The boys 
acknowledged that they were flatly " sold," but ever after 
wards volunteers for drill were more numerous than scarce. 



BARBARA FKIETCHIE. 

Up from the meadows rich with corn, 
Clear in the cold September morn, 

The clustered spires of Frederick stand, 
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland. 

Round about them orchards sweep, 
Apple and peach-tree fruited deep. 

Fair as a garden of the Lord 

To the eyes of the famished rebel horde. 

On that pleasant morn of the early fall 
When Lee marched over the mountain wall- 
Over the mountains winding down, 
Horse and foot, into Frederick town. 

Forty flags with their silver stars, 
Forty flags with their crimson bars, 

Flapped in the morning wind : the sun 
Of noon looked down, and saw not one. 

Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then, 
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten; 



BARBARA FRIETCHIE. 



Bravest of all in Frederick town, 

She took up the flag the men hauled down ; 

In her attic window the staff she set, 
To show that one heart was loyal yet. 

Up the street came the rebel tread, 
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead. 

Under his slouched hat left and right 
He glanced : the old flag met his sight. 

" Halt I" — the dust brown ranks stood fast. 
u j?i ve \v — out ki aze d the rifle blast. 

It shivered the window, pane, and sash ; 
It rent the banner with seam and gash. 

Qnick, as it fell from the broken staff, 
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf; 

She leaned far out on the window-sill, 
And shook it forth with a royal will. 

" Shoot, if you must, this gray old head, 
But spare your country's flag," she said. 

A shade of sadness and a blush of shame, 
Over the face of the leader came ; 

The noble nature within him stirred 
To lift at that woman's deed and word ; 

" Who touches a hair of yon gray head 
Dies like a dog ! March on !" he said. 

All day long through Frederick street, 
Sounded the tread of marching feet ; 

All day long that free flag tossed 
Over the heads of the rebel host. 



"more brains, lord!" 



289 



Ever its torn folds rose and fell 

On the loyal winds that loved it well ; 

And through the hill-gaps sunset light 
Shone over it with a warm good-night. 

Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er, 

And the rebel rides on his raids no more. 

Honor to her ! and let a tear 

Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier. 

Over Barbara Frietchie's grave 
Flag of Freedom and Union wave ! 

Peace and order and beauty draw 
Round thy symbol light and law ; 

And ever the stars above look down 
On thy stars below at Frederick town ! 



"MOKE BRAINS, LORD!" 

Rev. De. Sundekland, on accepting the pastorship of an 
American church in Paris, offered his farewell prayer as 
Chaplain of the United States Senate, a short time after. On 
this occasion he made some peculiar home-thrusts at the hon- 
orable gentlemen for whom, during four months previous, he 
had been been daily interceding at the throne of grace. He 
uttered the following supplication very audibly : 

" We pray Thee, Lord ! to give to the councillors and 
statesmen of America more brains ! More brains, Lord ! More 
brains /" 
19 



GOV. JOHNSON AND THE REBEL CHAPLAINS. 



On hearing this very well-timed entreaty, but rather harsh 
criticism, Mr. Sumner dropped his head upon his breast quite 
feelingly, Jim Lane rolled his eyes piously, Garrett Davis 
evinced signs of emotion, and a gentleman in the reporters' 
gallery uttered an emphatic "Amen !" by way of response. 

Many of the honorable secretaries dropped their heads 
upon their desks to conceal a smile at the -chaplain's suppli- 
cation, which smile extended to the dimensions of a broad 
rrin, as the "Amen" was heard to proceed from the reporters' 
gallery. The worthy Sergeant-at-Arms, who was standing 
in his usual deeply reverential attitude (with solemn counte- 
nance on religious thoughts intent), turned the white of one 
of his official eyes in the direction of the self-constituted 
clerk in the gallery, but he evidently could not discover a 
countenance which did not exhibit the utmost decorum of 
expression. 



GOY. JOHNSON AND THE REBEL CHAPLAINS. 

Among the secesh clergymen of Nashville sent to "safe 
quarters" by Governor Johnson, for refusing to take the oath 
of allegiance to the Union, was the Eev. W. H. Wharton, 
chaplain of the penitentiary. 

Wharton, before our occupation of the city, had made a 
written report in favor of liberating certain convicts from 
prison, to join the rebel army. When summoned before 
Johnson, he equivocated, and tried to shelter himself under 
his clerical garb, calling himself " a citizen of Heaven." His 
claim of a higher citizenship than of earth was rather dam- 
aged when the governor, producing his jail-delivery recom- 
mendation, sternly said : "Is that your report, sir, and your 



GOV. JOHNSON AND THE REBEL CHAPLAINS. 291 



name? Do you call that the language of a citizen of Heaven,' 
to advise the turning loose of felons from the cells where jus 
tice has placed them, that they may join in the work of kill- 
ing loyal men, and destroying the best government in the 
world? I don't believe the Almighty approves of such 
teaching as that." 

Avaunt ! base hypocrite ! hug your damning sin, 

And don 'heaven's livery to serve the devil in.' — Plagiarism. 

Others of the rebel clergymen, among whom were Kev, 
Mi. Sehon and Mr. Elliott, being brought before Governor 
Johnson, the following dialogue ensued : — 

Gov. Johnson. — "Well, gentlemen, what is your desire?" 

Mr. Sehon. — " I speak but for myself. I do not know what 
the other gentlemen wish. My request is that I -may have a 
few days to consider on the subject of signing this paper. I 
wish to gather my family together and talk over the subject: 
for this purpose, I desire about fourteen days." 

Gov. Johnson. — " It seems to me there should be but little 
hesitation about the matter. All that is required of you is to 
ign the oath of allegiance. If you are loyal citizens, you 
?.&n have no reason to refuse to do so. If you are disloyal, 
and working to obstruct the operations of the government, it 
is my duty, as the representative of that government, to see 
that you are placed in a position so that the least possible 
harm shall result from your proceedings. You, certainly, 
cannot reasonably refuse to renew your allegiance to the 
government that is now protecting you and your families 
and property." 

Mr. Elliott. — "As a non-combatant, governor, I considered 
that under the stipulations of the surrender of the city, I 
should be no further annoyed. As a non-combatant, I do 
not know that I have committed an act, since the Federals 



292 PROMPT ADMINISTRATION OF THE LAW". 



occupied the city, that would require me to take the oath re- 
quired." 

Gov. Johnson. — "I believe, Mr. Elliott, you have two 
brothers in Ohio?" 

Mr. Elliott. — " Yes, governor, I have two noble brothers 
there. They did not agree with me in the course I pursued 
in regard to secession. But I have lived in Tennessee so 
many years, that I have considered the State my home, and 
am willing to follow her fortunes. Tennessee is a good 
State." 

Gov. Johnson. — " I know Tennessee is a good State : and 1 
believe the best way to improve her fortunes is to remove 
those from her borders who prove disloyal and traitors to her 
interests, as they are traitors to the interest of that govern- 
ment which has fostered and protected them. By your 
inflammatory remarks and conversation, and by your dis- 
loyal behaviour, in weaning the young under your charge 
from their allegiance to the government, you have won a 
name that will never be placed on the roll of patiiots. A 
visit to the north may be of benefit to you." 



PEOMPT ADMINISTRATION OF THE LAW. 

After General Schenck's arrival in Cumberland, one of hi? 
first decisions was very characteristic. A secesh colonel had 
sold his negro to the Confederate government, taking pay, of 
course, in scrip. The negro, employed in fortifications, 
managed to escape to Cumberland, where he spread himself 
considerably. A constable, knowing the circumstances, and 
wishing to turn a penny, had the negro thrown into prison 



HELPING A POOR SOLDIER. 



293 



as an escaped slave. General Schenck, hearing the facts, sent 
for the parties. 

'•' By what right," he asked of the constable, " do you hold 
this man in prison ?" 

" As a fugitive from service." 

"Don't you know that he escaped from the service of the 
rebels?" 

"Yes ; but we have a law in Maryland that covers the case, 
general." 

" And I have a law upon which it can be decided. Colonel 
Porter, set that negro at large, and put this constable in his 
place." 

The astonished snapper up of trifles was marched off to the 
cell lately occupied by his proposed victim. After being 
detained there precisely the same number of days he had 
imprisoned the poor darkey, he was set at large, fully 
impressed with the belief that the grim-visaged general had 
never learned to be trifled with. 



HELPING A POOE SOLDIER. 

"When Parson Brownlow was in the town of , a good 

many people grumbled about the high price of admission to 
his lecture. A very rich, but stingy man, who had been all 
the time very profuse with expressions of his patriotism, 
exclaimed, in a crowd : — 

"Give Parson Brownlow half a dollar? No, sir-ree! I'd 
a good deal sooner give it to a poor soldier !" 

"OhJ M said a bystander, "then give your half dollar tc 

Captain H (an officer dismissed from the army for cow 

ardice) ; they say he's a mighty 'poor soldier!" 



294 THRILLING INCIDENT AT FORT DONELSON. 

THKILLING INCIDENT AT FOKT DONELSON. 

Some six or eight years previous to the commencement of 
the war, a citizen of Massachusetts, being unjustly suspected 
of a crime, suffered the loss of friends, business, and reputa- 
tion, which, being unable or unwilling to bear up against, 
he determined on changing his location. 

Accordingly, having so disposed his property that it could 
be easily managed by his wife, he suddenly disappeared, 
leaving her a comfortable home and the care of two boys of 
the ages of ten and twelve years. 

The first fear that he had sought a violent death, was 
partly dispelled by the orderly arrangement of his affairs, 
and the discovery that a daguerreotype of the family-group 
was missing from the parlor-table. Not much effort was 
made to trace the fugitive. 

When, afterward, facts were developed which established 
his innocence of the crime charged, it was found impossible 
to communicate with him ; and, as the publication of the 
story in several widely circulated papers failed to recall him, 
he was generally supposed to be dead. 

At the outbreak of the war, his eldest son, who had be- 
come a young man, was induced by a friend, a captain in a 
western regiment, to enlist in his company. He carried 
himself well through campaigns in Missouri and Tennessee, 
and after the capture of Fort Donelson, was rewarded with a 
first lieutenant's commission. At the battle of Murfreesboro 
he was wounded in the left arm, but so slightly that he was 
still able to take care of a squad of wounded prisoners. 

While performing this duty, he became aware that one of 
them, a middle-aged man, with a full, heavy beard, was look- 
ing at him with fixed attention. The day after the fight, as 



THRILLING INCIDENT AT FORT DONELSON. 295 



the officer was passing, the soldier gave the military salute, 
and said : " A word with you, if you please, sir. Ycu re- 
mind me of an old friend. Are you from New England ?" 
" I am." 

" From Massachusetts ?" 
"Yes." 

" And your name ?" 

The young lieutenant told his name, and how he came to 
serve in a western regiment. 

" I thought so," said the soldier, and turning away, he was 
silent. Although his curiosity was much excited by the sol- 
dier's manner, the officer forbore to question him and with- 
drew. But, in the afternoon, he took occasion to renew the 
conversation, and expressed the interest awakened in him by 
the incident of the morning. 

" I knew your father," said the prisoner ; " is he well ?" 

"We have not seen him for years," said the lieutenant; 
u we think he is dead." 

Then followed such an explanation of the circumstances of 
his disappearance as the young man could give. He had 
never known the precise nature of the charges against his 
father, but was able to make it quite clear that his innocence 
was established. 

"I knew your mother, also," continued the soldier; "I 
was in love with her when she married your father." 

" I have a letter from her, dated ten days ago," said the 
lieutenant. "My brother is a nine months' man in New 
Orleans." 

After a little desultory conversation, the soldier took from 
under his coat a leathern wallet, and disclosed a daguerreo ■ 
type case. The hasp was gone, and the corners were rounded 
by wear 



296 



THE ESCAPE. 



"Will you oblige me," he said, "by looking at this, alone, 
in your tent?" 

Agitated, almost beyond control, the young officer took 
the case, and hurried away. He had seen the picture before. 
It represented a man and a woman sitting side by side, with 
a boy at the knee of each. 

The romantic story moved the commander of the division 
to grant the young man a furlough, and both father and son 
reached home in a few days after. The reader is left to 
imagine the sequel. 



THE ESCAPE. 

1 was now alone in the quiet woods. The sounds of 
trampling horses had died away, and the little rill beside me 
trickled peacefully in the still night. I reached my hand 
down, and, filling my glove with water, poured it over my 
face. It was cool and refreshing, and in a few moments I was 
able to rise. I looked at the stream — at the log, beneath 
which lay my sabre — and at the tree, beneath which lay my 
horse ; and then, making an effort, I stepped upon the log, 
and crossed into the thick brushwood on the other side. But 
a few steps were taken, when I was glad to sit down upon a 
fallen tree. I felt stunned and faint, yet hoped I was gathering 
strength and would soon be able to go on. As I was thus 
seated the question arose, What should I do ? Fort Henry, I 
knew, was eastward of me. Should I go there ? — it was but 
thirty-five or forty miles. ISTo I the country between must 
be swarming with rebels. Should I go to Paducah ? It was 
sixty miles northward, and the enemy would, doubtless, fol- 
low in that direction. Should I remain hidden in the woods, 



THE ESCAPE. 



297 



trusting to their leaving in a few days ? Should I crawl to 
6ome barn or stack, and take the chance of their not search- 
ing it? Would my strength hold out if I went on? and 
would the fractured bone, that I felt under my coat, and the 
growing pain in my side, do without the surgeon's care till I 
could make my way out ? 

At length I decided on my course : I would go northward 
till daylight, and thus be some miles ahead ; then I would 
turn eastward, and thus place myself on one side of their 
probable line of march. During the next day I hoped to 
meet a contraband, and, obtaining information, then decide 
whether to continue eastward, toward Fort Henry, or turn 
again to Paducah. 

Thus deciding, I took out my handkerchief and tied my 
pistol round my waist, and then rose from the tree to begin 
my journey. The broken ribs made it painful to breathe, 
and my right arm had to be supported constantly by my left. 
Around me, all was beautiful and serene. The calm moon 
shone, in peaceful contrast with the exciting scene I had 
lately witnessed, and lighted my steps and pointed my way. 
No sound disturbed the stillness of the woods, save that from 
a distant farm there came the tinkle of a cow-bell. It was in 
the direction I wished to go, and toward it I slowly made 
my way. A friend had brought me down the April number 
of the " Atlantic" before leaving camp, and I had read Whit- 
tier's " Mountain Pictures." A line of it came to my mind : — 

"The pastoral curfew of the cow-hell rung 

and I wondered whether any other reader would ever thus 
apply it. 

I had to walk slowly through the silvery lighted woods ; 
but at last drew near the ringing noise, and climbed the hill 



298 



THE ESCAPE. 



on the top of which were the farm and barnyard of the cows. 
A road ran long the brow of the hill, and on the other side 
of it appeared some wide fields. To the left was a clump of 
apple-trees, and the hoarse bark of a dog told me they 
covered a house. I stopped a few moments to rest and listen, 
and then stepped cautiously into the road. On the opposite 
side was a large tree, and in its shadow I tried to climb the 
high rail fence. I was weaker than I had supposed. My 
limbs refused at first to lift my weight, and my one arm 
could not keep me from swinging round against the fence. 
Twice I thought I must give it up ; but, after several efforts, 
I mounted it, and then, holding my breath, I let myself drop 
down on the other side. 

Across the wide field there was another road. I had not 
gone far when I heard a noise in the woods, and, fearing it 
might be a picket of the enemy, I lay down beside the fence. 
The moon was then near the horizon, and I deemed it most 
prudent to wait till she had set. 

Soon after this I came upon some cows, and these I drove 
before me. I thought that if there should be a picket in the 
road the cows would turn off, and there would be less likeli- 
hood of my being seen or heard. After going, I should 
think, a mile, we came to a broad road. This the cows 
crossed ; and I was about to follow, when a large dog came 
from a house beyond, and, after barking furiously at the 
cows, came toward me. I took my pistol out, and was pre- 
pared to fire, when the dog stopped barking. It was well 
for me he did so, for within a few yards I heard horses 
coming up the road. I looked, and saw the outlines of some 
horsemen. There was no time to fly. I sank quietly down 
upon the ground, and lay still. The horsemen came on. 
They seemed a picket. One rode in front, who seemed a 



THE ESCAPE. 



299 



sergeant, and the others followed. They passed close by me — 
so close I could hear the jingling of their spurs. 

When they had passed I rose, and determined that there- 
after I would not go upon any road or cross any field, or 
spare any pains. I entered the woods. They were now 
thick with underbrush, and I had not the moon to guide 
me. Frequently I had wanted the North star on night 
marches, but it had always been hidden by clouds. Now, how- 
ever, on this night, when I needed it above all others, it shone 
out beautiful and bright. As I watched it, it seemed an old 
friend, reappearing to aid me, and again and again, as I 
emerged from some thick underwood, and turned toward its 
constant blaze, I felt as if it were the companion of my flight. 
But, even with its aid, I encountered difficulties. Sometimes 
•the trees would hide it, and often I had to keep my eyes 
fixed on my path, or strained on suspicious objects around 
me. My plan was to take some distant hill for a land-mark, 
and on reaching it, to look for another, and make toward it. 
Yet fallen trees, and deep hollows, often made me change my 
course, and sometimes made me lose it, and then I had to 
search the sky, and refind the star before I could go on. As 
I could not use my hands, I was forced to push my way 
through the brush with my left shoulder. I had lost my 
hat, too, in the fall, and my hair often caught in the branches. 
So my progress was slow and wearisome, with no help 
around me, but with hope before. 

I should think it was about three o'clock in the morning, 
when, from the top of a little hill, there appeared just before 
me the smoking, smouldering fires of a camp. I knew if it 
were a camp, that I was within the lines. I turned, there- 
fore, and made my way back as a burglar might glide through 
a house — sliding my feet along the ground, lest I should 



300 



THE ESCAPE. 



tread upon some crackling branch — choosing the thickest 
wood and the darkest shade. About an hour later, I saw, as 
I thought, some tents, but knew it was most improbable there 
should be any there ; so I stopped to examine, and then saw 
they were but the gray light of morning breaking through 
the trees. It was a welcome sight ; yet I confess the night 
had not seemed long, and that I was surprised to find the 
morning come. 

I now changed my course, and turned toward the east. 
The woods changed too. There were small trees, with little 
anderbrush, and the ground was a smooth, descending plain. 
I kept on over this for miles. The sky brightened ; the sun 
rose, and mounted higher and higher. I heard the barking 
of dogs, the lowing of cattle, and occasionally the voices of 
men and children. I came, too, upon roads, and these had to 
be crossed with great caution, coming out step by step, look- 
ing carefully up and down, listening anxiously, and then 
hurrying across and plunging into the woods on the other 
side. Whence these roads came or where they went, I 
neither knew nor cared. I was ignorant of the country, but 
not compelled to ask my way. For once, I was strangely 
independent, and needed only to look toward the sun and 
travel east. 

Later I came upon fields and farms, and round these I had 
to make long circuits. One chain of farms, I thought I never 
should get though. Again and again I was forced to go back 
and try again. The temptation to break through my resolu- 
tion, and cross just this one, or that one, was very strong ; 
and I found that making one's escape, like any other success, 
depends on his resolution and perseverance. 

Toward noon, as I was approaching a road, I heard chil- 
dren's voices. I looked, and saw, or thought I saw, a man 



THE ESCAPE. 



301 



on horseback. He sat still as though on guard, and I sup- 
posed he was one of the enemy's picket. The woods were 
thin, so I lay down and drew the bushes over me. I watched 
him, but he did not move, and I soon decided I must stay 
there as long as he did. Notwithstanding my anxiety, I fell 
into a doze, probably not for a minute, yet when I opened 
my eyes, the man was gone, and a tree stood in his place. 
It was an optical illusion. My eyes had been overworked 
for three nights, and for the last twenty hours, constantly 
strained in examining objects far and near. The moment's 
rest had dispelled the apparition. I remembered that as the 
sun was rising that morning, I had long doubted whether a 
clump of bushes was not a group of my own men — that trees 
and stumps had several times been changed to sentinels and 
guards; and I remembered, also, the tents in the morning, 
and the camp-fires during the night. 

I now began to suffer from thirst, for I could only drink by 
dipping up water with one hand. The sun, too, beat down 
through the half leaved trees, and became painful. I twisted 
some leaves into a sort of cap, but it was often brushed ofij 
and at best made but a poor shelter. I had been disap- 
pointed also in not meeting a contraband. Some I had seen 
in fields, but always with white men, and them I must shun ; 
and as I did so, I asked myself whether this was the United 
States, and these Americans, that I should be thus skulking 
like a hunted criminal. 

Feeling now and then a little faint, I decided on going to 
a house for something to eat, and again plunging into the 
woods. Yet here great caution was necessary. I wanted a 
small house, because it would probably contain but one man 
and I must have it out of sight of neighbors and near woods. 
I passed several, but none of them complied with my condi 



302 



THE ESCAPE. 



tions — one was too large, another too far back in an open 
field, and a third was overlooked by a fourth. 

It was perhaps three o'clock, and I was growing more and 
more faint, when I saw an opening through the trees and 
the corner of a house. I approached it slowly. There was 
a field beyond, but no houses in sight, and the woods came 
up to the yard behind. "It is just the house I need," 
I said to myself, "and now I must risk it and go in." I 
slipped my pistol round, so that I could draw it quickly from 
under my coat, and pushed open the gate. All was quiet ; 
I walked round to the door, and saw a woman inside, who 
looked startled at seeing me. She said she would call her 
husband, who was in the field, and went out. I watched her, 
and in a few minutes was satisfied by seeing them return- 
ing. I went back, and narrowly inspected the house. A 
shot-gun hung over the window, but it was unloaded and 
rusted. As I finished they came in. He was a young man, 
with a bright, happy face — far too cheerful a face for a seces- 
sionist. "We looked at each other, and he said : 

" You are a Union soldier." 

"Yes," I answered; "and what are you?" 

rt I am a Union citizen," he replied. 

The word " Union" was something of a talisman ; if he 
had been a rebel, he would have said Federal. 
. James Mills (for such was my new-found friend's name) 
was the first of several suffering and devoted Union men, 
who refused all pay and reward for the services they ren- 
dered to me, and whose kindness I cannot sufficiently praise, 
lie told me I was in a dangerous neighborhood, and must 
neither stay, nor travel by the road. His wife hurried for 
me a dinner, and then he went with me through some fields 
and woods, and placed me upon a path leading to a second 



THE ESCAPE. 



303 



Union man's, named Henry Chunn. It was something like 
three miles to Mr. Chunn's, but I felt quite fresh and equa> 
to a dozen, if necessary. 

Arriving there I was most kindly received by his wi& 
She told me that her husband would cheerfully take me c?» 
toward Paducah. She made me lie down ; she bathed n?.y 
shoulder ; and she did every thing for me that womanly 
kindness could suggest. This was the first bed I had laii 
npon for more than three months. It produced an old effect 
for in a few moments I was sound asleep. I slept till aftei 
dark, and then awoke by hearing the children cry that 
father had come. He came in, and walking up to me, 
said, in a cordial, honest voice : 

" My friend, I am truly glad to see you ; you are truly 
welcome to my house." 

I went to sleep again and slept till morning. There was 
bad news then : his mules had disappeared from the barn- 
yard during the night. But I must wait ; his boys would 
find them by the time we finished breakfast. At breakfast 
a little circumstance occurred which may give you an idea 
of the different life we lead on the border. Across some 
fields, and beyond some woods, we heard a gun. It was no 
cannon — a mere shot-gun, such as a boy might fire any 
where on a spring morning — yet we all stopped talking. 

"What does that mean?" I asked, after the silence had 
continued a few moments. 

" I don't know," said Mr. Chunn. 

" Have your neighbors guns and powder?" 

"No." 

" Then," said I, " it may mean a great deal for us." 
We all rose from the table, and looked anxiously across 
the fields ; but nothing was to be seen. The family looked 



H04 



THE ESCAPE. 



troubled, and Mr. Chunn said something about the mules 
being gone, and this being strange. We waited some time, 
out all continued quiet. But the boys had not found the 
mules, and Mr. Chunn accordingly walked on with me to- 
ward the house of Mr. Edward Magness, who was likewise 
a good Union man, and would willingly help me on. 

I took leave of these kind, simple-minded people, whose 
plain and honest goodness is rare in the great world, from 
which they live apart, and went slowly along the little wood 
road. I soon came to a field in which were two or three 
men and several children planting corn. I must here ex- 
plain to you that in the south corn is the one great crop 
on which everybody lives. The bread is all made uf corn; 
the horses are fed on corn ; the pigs are fattened on corn , 
and if the corn should fail there would be a famine. There 
were fears that it would fail. The spring had been cold and 
wet, and the planting was not half done, which always had 
been over a week before. All hands were working early 
and late on every plantation, seizing on this fine weather 
for hurrying in the corn. As Mr. Magness came down a 
furrow, near me, I stepped out of the bushes, and told him 
briefly who I was, and what I wanted. It must have been 
an unwelcome tale ; yet he never, by look or word, gave a 
disagreeable sign. Promptly he stopped his plough and un- 
hitched his horses. Unwillingly I saw the planting cease. 
But when I spoke of it, he said pleasantly, they would try 
and make up the lost time when he came back. We went 
to his house, the saddles were soon put on, and we started. 
My companion was more than usually intelligent, and gave 
me much information. He also understood the danger of 
being seen by secessionists, and picked his way with great 
care by unused roads. 



THE ESCAPE. 



305 



A ride of several miles brought us to the house of Mr. 
Wade. A very shrewd and cautious man was Mr. Wade, 
jet a staunch Union man, who had spoken and suffered for 
the cause. He had spent the previous eight months chiefly 
at Paducah, stealing up occasionally in the dark of evening 
to see his family, and leaving before daylight the next 
morning. Once he had been arrested, and twice his house 
had been searched and robbed. He knew full well the 
woods and by-paths, and had tried the difficulties and dan- 
gers of escaping guerrillas. He and I, therefore, had much 
more in common than the others, and in him I felt I had a 
trusty and experienced friend ; yet strange to tell, he was- • 
a South Carolinian. 

We went into the house. On a couch lay a very aged 
woman, who, I thought, was childish. Mr. Wade and Mr. 
Magness were old friends, and talked as country neighbors 
talk, of crops, and roads, and men, and places. At last Mr. 
Magness said : " I saw Edward Jones yesterday, and he told 
me they had had a letter from Joel, and that he wrote they 
were leaving Corinth, and had been attacked. His regiment 
was defeated, and he had to run for his life." 

The old lady, at this, rose up and said : tl Say that over 
sir." 

Mr. Magness repeated it. 

u He is my own grandson," said the old lady. " The 
night before he went he came here, and I told him never to 
fight against his country — the country his forefathers fought 
for. He said, ' Grandmother, they will call me a coward ! if 
I don't go.' A coward ! I would let them call me any thing, 
I told him, before I would fight against my country. But 
he went. And, now, what do you tell me ? He is my own 
grandson — my own flesh and blood— -so I can't wish him 
20 



306 



THE ESCAPE. 



killed," said the old lady, with great feeling; "but, I thank 
God — I thank God, he has had to run for his life /" 

Our early dinner finished, Mr. Magness took his depart- 
ure, and we started. 

" We will stop at my brother-in-law's, captain," said Mr. 
Wade, " and get you a better saddle. It is only a mile from 
here." So we rode quietly along. 

"We will pass our member of Assembly," said Mr. Wade. 

"It is about a mile from my brother-in-law's. He is a 
true man, I tell you. The secesh would give any thing to 
get him." 

By this time we reached his brother-in-law's. A little girl 
was in the yard, and, as we stopped, came to the gate. 

"Well, uncle," said the little girl, "are you running away 
again from the rebel soldiers ?" 

"No," said Mr. Wade, cheerfully — "oh no: there are no 
rebels round now." 

"Yes, there are," said the girl. "Father has just come 
from Farrnington, and there are four hundred there." 

" What ! four hundred in Farmington !" 

" It's so, brother," said a woman who had come out — " it is 
so. They came there this morning; and husband hurried 
back to tell the neighbors." 

"Captain," said Mr. Wade, "the sooner you and I get out 
of this country the better for us." 

" How far is it back to Farmington ?" 

" Only four miles." 

" Is there any reason for their coming down this road ?" 

" Yes : Hinckley, the member we elected, lives on it, and 
Jones, who helped elect him, lives on it, and I live on it 
They would like to arrest us all. But about half a mile from 
Hinckley's there is a little side-path we can take for five or 
six miles." 



THE ESCAPE. 



307 



Could we have ridden on a gallop, the side- path would 
have been reached before the threatening danger could have 
reached us; but, unfortunately, the pain in my side had 
increased so that we could not go faster than a walk. I tried 
to trot for a moment, but could not bear it, and reined up. 
"Do you ride on, Mr. Wade," I said: "there is no need of 
our both being taken." But Mr. Wade refused. 

It was an anxious ride. We knew that Farmiogton was 
not far behind, and they might come clattering after us at 
every moment. We looked back often — at every turn of the 
road — from the top of every knoll and hill, but nothing was 
seen. 

Soon we came to Hinckley's. Two men were seated on 
the porch, and the flag was flying in front of the house. I 
rode on ; but Mr. Wade stopped, and said, a Pull down youi 
flag, boys, and take to the woods." It was quietly said, but 
the two men sprang up. I looked back, and saw them 
exchange a few words with Mr. Wade, and then one pulled 
down the flag as the other ran toward the stable. There 
was another anxious interval, and then we reached the side- 
road. We went past it, so as to leave no trail, and first one, 
and then the other, struck off through the woods until we 
came to it. A very intricate and narrow little road it was ; 
so that the enemy could not have travelled much faster than 
we. Yet there were some settlers, "but all good Union 
men," Mr. Wade said. At the first we stopped ; and he bor- 
rowed a butternut coat, and with some difficulty, helped me 
off with my soldier's blouse, and on with it ; so that to any 
person in a neighboring house or field we must have seemed 
like two farmers riding along. 

After six or seven miles, our bridle-path came back to the 
mam road. " There is a nasty, secesh tavern down the road 



308 



THE ESCAPE. 



a mile or so," said Mr. Wade, " and if they are in this pari 
of the country, they will be sure to go down there for the 
news and a drink. If we can only get across the road and 
over to old Washam's, we shall be safe." 

Slowly we came out to the road. "We stopped and listened 
— we held our breath, and bent down to catch the trampling 
of their horses. We moved on where the bushes grew 
thickest, and stopped again. Then Mr. Wade rode out and 
looked up and down. "There is no one in sight," he said; 
" come on quickly." I hurried my horse, and in a moment 
was across. On the other side were great trees and but little 
underbrush to hide us. We hurried on until we were hidden 
from the road, and then Mr. Wade drew a long breath, and 
said : " They won't come down this road ; we are safe now." 

The danger past, there came a great increase of pain. 
Each step of the horse racked me, and I felt myself grow 
weaker and weaker. At last came the refreshing words: 
" Old Washam's is the next house," and soon the next house 
appeared. "A true Union man," said Mr. Wade, and true he 
seemed, for the flag was displayed before the door. We 
stopped, but I was too exhausted to dismount, and had to 
slide off into Mr. Wade's arms. As I did so, an old lady, 
with silver spectacles upon her nose and knitting in her hand, 
came out. " What is the matter with that poor man ?" she 
cried ; and then catching sight of my uniform under the but- 
ternut coat, " Why, it is a Union soldier ; bring him into the 
house — bring him in immediately." So I was brought in and 
laid upon a bed, and tenderly cared for. 

I lay there watching the knitting and listening to the old 
lady and her daughter's talk. They had a consultation upon 
my safety, and it was decided that I should go to the daugh- 
ter's house for the night. 1 It is off the road," they said, 



THE ESCAPE. ^ 309 

" and if they make an attack, we can send yon word across 
the fields." But later, we learnt that two spies had passed 
the house that day, and it was decided I should be sent on 
that night. 

We were to start from the house of a son-in-law of Mr 
Washam's, and he and his brother-in-law were to drive me 
I walked up to the house, and found the wagon nearly ready. 
His wife was a young girl, with a sweet and gentle voice and 
manner. " It is too bad," she said, " too bad that you should 
go away so wounded and wearied. In peace, we would not 
let any one leave our home thus." Soon the wagon came to 
the doop. " Mother," she said, " let us make up a bed in it." 

" Oh, no," I interposed, " I am not used to a bed ; I have 
not had one in three months, and cannot put you to such 
trouble." 

"It is no trouble to us," she replied, so earnestly and 
kindly, that I could not doubt it ; "do not think that of us." 

" But," I went on, " I assure you, some hay in the wagon 
is all I want, and much more than I am accustomed to. Be- 
sides, I am dusty and dirty, and shall certainly spoil your 
bed-clothes." 

"If it had not been for you Union soldiers fighting for us," 
Bhe answered, "there would be nothing in this house to spoil; 
and whatever we have, you shall have." 

Against such goodness and patriotism, who could raise 
objections? The bed was made in the wagon; they helped 
me up, and blessed by many good wishes and kind farewells, 
we started. For me it was so much more safe and comforta- 
ble than usual, that I soon fell asleep ; but to my two young 
friends, it was an unusual and an anxious drive. Frequently 
I was aroused by the wagon stopping. Sometimes they 
beard dogs barking — sometimes voices ; and once a gun. At 



310 



THE ESCAPE. 



length 1 woke, to find the wagon standing in front of a house, 
and young Washam thumping on the door. Soon a man 
came out. 

" Why, boys," he said, " what on earth are you doing here 
this time o' night ?" 

"Why you see, Mr. Derringer," said one of the "boys," 
" here's a wounded Union officer, hurt in the fight on the 
Obion. Joel Wade brought him to our house, and we've 
brought him here; and now we want you to take him to 
Paducah." 

" I'm really sorry," said Mr. Derringer, " that I've lent my 
wagon ; but my neighbor, Purcell, is a good Union man, and 
he will do it. All of you come in, and I will go over and see 
him." 

I told Mr. Derringer to wait till morning ; but he would 
not hear of it ; and after seeing us comfortably in bed, he 
started off to walk a mile or two and wake his neighbor in 
the dead of night, to tell him he must come at break of day 
and carry on a stranger, of whom he had never even heard, 
for no other reason than that he was a wounded Union officer. 

Before daylight, Mr. Derringer aroused us. It was all 
right, he said ; his neighbor Purcell would be there ; and now 
his wife was up, and had breakfast ready. As breakfast fin- 
ished, Mr. Purcell arrived ; I bade my good friends good-by, 
and started on the last stage of my journey, As we reached 
the main road, we saw numbers of men mounted on jaded 
mules, and clad in sombre butternut, with sad and anxious 
faces. Unhappy refugees flying from the invading foe! 
Some who had journeyed through the night, rode with us 
toward Paducah ; others who had reached it the day before, 
rode anxiously out in quest of news. As many caught sight 
of me, they recognized the marks of recent service. 



THE ESCAPE. 



311 



" Are you from the Obion ?" they asked ; " how far off is 
the enemy now ? Will he dare to come here ?" 

We drew nearer to the town, and the signs of alarm in- 
creased. The crowd of refugees grew greater — the cavalry 
patrolled the roads — the infantry was under arms, and the 
artillery was planted so as to sweep the approaches. At last 
some houses appeared. 

".This is Paducah," said Mr. Purcell ; "you are there at 
last." 

We stopped at headquarters, and I went in to report. 

"Is the adjutant in ?" I asked of an officer who was writing. 

" I am the adjutant, sir," he answered, without looking ud. 

" I have come to report myself as arriving at this post." 
. " What name, sir ?" 

I gave my name. The adjutant looked up, and with some 
surprise, said: 

" Why, you are reported killed, sir ; two of your men saw 
you lying dead under your horse !" 

" How many of my men have come in ?" 

a About half ; they are at the provost marshal's." 

" Any officers ?" 

" Yes ; one of your lieutenants was taken, but escaped, and 
came down from Mayfleld by railroad. And now," said the 
adjutant, ''don't stay here any longer; go at once to the 
hospital, and I will send an order to the medical director to 
give you a good surgeon." 

A few moments more, and I caught sight of a group of my 
men. Then came the painful questions : Who have come 
in? Who are missing? Who last saw this one? Who 
knows any thing of that one ? Where does K.'s family live ? 
and who will write to tell them how he fell? And then 
came a surgeon — a quiet room — a tedious time — an old friend 
— and a journey home. 



312 



66 1 FIGHTS MIT SIGEL." 



"I FIGHTS MIT SIGEL." 

I met him one morn, he was trudging along, 

His knapsack with chickens was swelling, 
He'd " blenkered" those dainties, and thought it no wrong, 

From some Secessionist's dwelling. 
" What regiment's yours ? and under whose flag 

Do you fight ?" said I, touching his shoulder. 
Turning slowly around he smilingly said, 

(For the thought made him stronger and bolder,) 

" I fights mit Sigel." 

The next time I saw him his knapsack was gone, 

His cap and his canteen were missing ; 
Shell, shrapnell and grape, and the swift rifle ball, 

Around him and o'er him were hissing : 
" How are you my friend, and where have you been, 

And for what and for whom are you fighting ?" 
He said, as a shell from the enemy's gun 

Sent his arm and his musket a "kiting," 

" I fights mit Sigel. 11 

And once more I saw him and knelt by his side, — 

His life-blood was rapidly flowing : 
I whispered of home, wife, children and friends, 

And the bright land to which he was going. 
" And have you no word for the dear ones at home, 

The ' wee one,' the father or mother ?" 
'Yaw! yaw!" said he, " tell them, oh tell them," — (quite done. 
Poor fellow ! he thought of no other) — 

" I fights mit Sigel." 

We scooped out a grave, and he dreamlessly sleeps 

On the banks of the Shenando' river ; 
His home and his kindred alike are unknown, 

His reward in the hands of the giver. 



SCOUT OF THE ARMY OF THE CUMBERLAND. 31 8 



We placed a rough board at the head of his grave, 

' And we left him alone in his glory," 
But on it we marked, ere we turned from the spot, 
The little we knew of his story — 

" I fights mit Sigel." 



ONE OF THE SCOUTS OF THE ARMY OF THE 
CUMBERLAND. 

Keller, or as he was usually called in the Army of the 
Cumberland, Killdare, was of German, and perhaps Jewish 
extraction, and during the first eighteen months of the war 
had been concerned with Besthoff, and three Jews by the 
name of Friedenburg, in smuggling goods into rebeldom, but, 
being arrested in connection with them, it appeared that he 
had not been as guilty as the others, and that what he had 
done had been rather to support his family than from a desire 
to aid the rebels. He was therefore released, and being 
offered an appointment as scout in the Union service, he ac- 
cepted it and was of great service to the Union cause. 

In March, 1863, he left Nashville on horseback, with, a 
small stock of goods, not exceeding one hundred dollars in 
value, with the intention of making his way into and through 
a certain portion of the Confederacy. Swimming his horse 
across Harpeth creek, and crossing with his goods in a canoe, 
he journeyed on, and passed the night at a house about six 
miles beyond Columbia, having previously fallen in with 
some of Forrest's men going to Columbia. The next morning 
he started for Shelbyville, where he arrived in due season. 
The occurrences there and in the subsequent portions of the 
trip, are best related in his own words : 



314 SCOUT OF THE ARMY OF THE CUMBERLAND. 

" When I arrived, I could rind stabling but no feed for 
my horse. I put the animal in the kitchen of a house, and 
gave a boy five dollars to get me a half bushel of corn, there 
being none in the town. I sold the little stock of goods to 
the firm of James Carr & Co., of Nashville, who gave me 
eight hundred dollars for the lot, and then went to visit Gen 
eral Frank Cheatham, General Maney, and General Bates., 
whom I saw at the house where I stopped. At the head- 
quarters of General Cheatham, Colonel A arrived 

from t e front, and stated in my presence that the whole 
Federal line had fallen back ; and I further understood from 

the generals present and Colonel A , that there would 

be no fight at Shelby ville. They said that probably there 
would be some skirmishing by the Federals, but that the 
battle would be fought at Tullahoma, and they had not more 
than one corps at Shelbyville, which was under General 
Polk 

" Forage and provisions for man and beast it is utterly im- 
possible to obtain in the vicinity of Shelbyville. The forage 
trains go as far as Lewisport, in Giles county, and the forage 
is then shipped to Tullahoma, and even farther back, for safe 
keeping — as far as Bridgeport. Confederate money is two 
for one of Georgia ; Tennessee, two and one half for one. 

" I next went to Tullahoma ; and there I met on the cars 
a major on Bragg's staff, and scraped an acquaintance through 
the introduction of a Nashville gentleman. When we ar- 
rived within a few miles of Tullahoma, he made a short 
statement to me, called me to the platform, and pointed out 
the rifle-pits and breastworks, which extended on each side 
of the railroad about a mile, in not quite a right angle. The 
whole force of Bragg's army is composed of fifty-five thou- 
sand men, well disciplined; twenty thousand of them are 



SCOUT OF THE ARMY OF THE CUMBERLAND. 315 



cavalry. When I left Tullahoma, I could not buy meat nor 
bread. When I arrived at Chattanooga, I gave a nigger one 
dollar for a drink of whiskey, one dollar for a small cake, 
and fifty cents for two eggs, which I took for subsistence, 
and started for Atlanta. I met, going thitherward, a good 
many acquaintances on the trains. When I arrived at At- 
lanta, I found a perfect panic in money matters. Georgia 
money was at seventy-five cents premium, and going up; 
gold, four and five dollars for one. I remained at Atlanta 
three days. Full one half of those I met were .from Nash- 
ville ; they were glad to see me. 

"I commenced my return to Tullahoma with a captain 
from Nashville, who also showed me the rifle-pits, as I before 
stated. I made my way on to Shelbyville, and then I got a 
pass from the provost-martial — a Major Hawkins — to Colum- 
bia, where I arrived on Sunday morning. There I found 
Forrest and his command had crossed Duck river on their 
way to Franklin. As I started from the Nelson Hotel to the 
provost-marshal's office, I was arrested on the square as a 
straggling soldier ; but I proved myself the contrary, and 
started without a pass to Williamsport. There some fool 
asked me if I had a pass. I told him i yes,' and showed him 
the pass I had from Shelbyville to Columbia, and the docu- 
ments I had in my possession, which he could not read. I 
gave the ferryman a five dollar piece to take me across the 
river, and he vouched for my pass — when I safely arrived 
at the Federal pickets." 

About a month after this, Killdare made another, and his 
last trip, the full report of which is subjoined. It will be 
seen that he was watched and several times arrested 
Though he finally escaped, his usefulness as a spy was totally 
destroyed, his name, appearance, and business having been 



316 SCOUT OF THE ARITY OF THE CUMBERLAND. 



betrayed to the enemy. He has consequently retired from 
the business. On his return, he made the following report : — 

" I left the city of Nashville on Tuesday, the 14th instant, 
to go south, taking with me a few goods to peddle. I passed 
down the Charlotte pike, and travelled two miles up* the 
Eichland creek; then crossed over to the Hardin pike, fol- 
lowing that road to Harpeth creek, and crossed below De 

Morse's mill. At the mill I met De Morse, who said 

to me, 1 Killdare, do you make another trip ?' I replied, ' I 
do not know.' De Morse then said, ' if you get below the 
meeting-house you are saved,' and smiled. I proceeded on 
my way, until I came to a blacksmith on the pike, at which 
a gentleman by the name of Marlin came out, and asked if I 
had heard any thing of Sanford being killed on the evening 
of the 13th instant. I told Marlin I did not know any thing 
about it, and proceeded on to South Harper, to Squire Alli- 
son's, which is seventeen miles from Nashville. I then fed 
my mule, stopped about one hour, and proceeded across South 
Harper toward TVilliamsport. 

"About one mile the other side of South Harper, two 
rebel scouts came galloping up, and asked me what I had for 
sale. I told them needles, pins, and playing-cards. They 
then inquired, 'have you any papers to go south?' I 
replied I had, and showed them some recommendations. 
They asked me to get down from my carryall, as they 
wanted to talk with me. This I did ; and they then asked : — 

" 1 Have you any pistols ?' 

" ' No,' I replied. 

14 Stepping back a few paces, and each drawing a pistol, 

one of them said, 1 you scoundrel, you are our prisoner ; 

you are a Yankee spy, and you carry letters from the south, 
and at the dead hour of night, you carry these letters to 



SCOUT OF THE ARMY OF THE CUMBERLAND. 317 



Truesdail's office. "We lost a very valuable man on Monday, 
while attempting to arrest you at your house ; his name was 
Sanford, and he was a great deal thought of by General Yan 

Dorn. — So now we've got you, you; turn your wagon 

round and go back.' 

" We turned, and went to Squire Allison's again, at which 
place I met Dr. Morton, from Nashville, whom I requested 
to assist in getting me released. Dr. Morton spoke to the 
men, who, in reply, said, ' we have orders to arrest him as a 
spy, for carrying letters to Truesdail's headquarters.' They 
then turned back to South Harper creek, and took me up the 
creek about one mile, where we met about eight more of these 
scouts, and Colonel McNairy, of Nashville, who was riding 
along in a buggy. The lieutenant, in command of the squad, 
wrote a dispatch to Yan Dorn, and gave it to one of the men, 
by the name of Thompson, who had me in custody, and we 
then proceeded up the creek to Spring Hill, toward the 
headquarters of General Yan Dorn. About six miles up the 
creek, Thompson learned I had some whiskey, which I gave 
him, and of which he drank until he got pretty well intoxi- 
cated. In the neighborhood of Ivy, we stopped until about 
six o'clock in the evening. About one mile from Ivy the 
wheel of my carryall broke. A neighbor came to us with 
an axe and put a pole under the axle-tree, and we proceeded 
on our way. "We had gone but a few hundred yards when 
the wagon turned over ; we righted it, and Thompson took a 
carpet-sack full of goods, filled his pockets, and then told me 

'to go to ; he would not take me to headquarters.' 

Changing his mind, however, he said he would, as he had 
orders so to do, and showed me the dispatch written by Lieu 
tenant Johnston to General Yan Dorn. It read as follows : — 



318 SCOUT OF THE AEMY OF THE CUMBERLAND. 



a 4 1 have succeeded in capturing Mr. Killdare. Archy 
Cheatham, of Nashville, says Killdare is not loyal to the 
Confederacy. The Federals have mounted five hundred 
light infantry. Sanford's being killed is confirmed. 

(Signed) Lieut. Johnston.' 

11 Thompson, being very drunk, left me, taking the goods 
he stole. Two citizens came up shortly and told me to turn 
round, and stop all night at Isaac Ivy's, first district, "William- 
son county. There we took the remainder of the goods into 
the house. At three o'clock in the morning, a negro woman 
came and knocked at the door. 

" Mr. Ivy says, 4 what do you want ?' 

"'A soldier is down at the creek, and wants to know 
where his prisoner is,' was the reply. 

" { What has he done with the goods he took from that 
man?' 

" ' He has left them at our house, and has just started up 
the creek, as I came up.' 
" ' That will do. Go on.' 

" I was awake, and tried to make my escape, asking Mr. 
Ivy if he had a couple of saddles to loan me. He said he 
had; and I borrowed from him seven dollars, as Thompson 
took all my money (fifty dollars in Georgia currency). He 
(Ivy) then told me the route I should take — going a few 
miles toward Franklin, and then turn toward my home in 
Nashville. Taking Ivy's advice, we proceeded on our way 
toward Franklin. About eight miles from Franklin, four 
guerrillas came up to me and fired pistols. 1 Halt !' said they ; 
1 you want to make your way to the Yankees. We have a 
notion to kill you, any way.' 

" They then ordered me to turn, which I did, — two going 



SCOUT OF THE ARMY OF THE CUMBERLAND. 319 



behind, whipping the mules, and hooting and hallooing at a 

great rate. We then turned back to Ivy's. When we got 

there, I said: — 

" 1 Where is Thompson, my guard, who told me to go on V 
11 1 He was here early this morning, and has gone up the 

hill hunting you, after borrowing my shot-gun,' was the 

answer. 

" Some conversation ensued between the parties, when Ivy 
wrote a note to General Yan Dorn, and gave it to Thomp- 
son. Ivy then gave us our equipage, and we went toward 
Spring Hill. On the way we met, on Carter's creek pike, a 
camp of four hundred Texan rangers. We arrived at Spring 
Hill at sundown of the day following. At Yan Dora's head- 
quarters, I asked for an interview with the general, which 
was not allowed, but was ordered to Columbia to prison 
until farther orders. 

" On Friday evening, a Nashville soldier who stood senti- 
nel let me out, and said : ' you have no business here.' I 
made my way toward Shelby ville ; crossed over Duck creek ; 
made my way to the Louisburg and Franklin pike, and 
started toward Franklin. Before we got to the pickets we 
took to the woods, and thus got round the pickets. A farmer 
reported having seen me to the guard, and I was taken 
again toward Yan Dora's headquarters, six miles distant. I 
had gone about one mile, when I fell in with Colonel Lewis's 
command, and was turned over to an orderly sergeant with 
whom I was acquainted and by whom I was taken to the 
headquarters of Colonel Lewis. There I was discharged 
from arrest, and was told by the colonel what route I should 
take in order to avoid the scouts. I then started toward 
Columbia, and thence toward Hillsboro. At Hillsboro I 
met a friend by the name of Parkham, who guided me 



320 SCOUT OF THE ARMY OF THE CUMBERLAND. 



within five miles of Franklin, where I arrived at daylight 
this morning. On Friday last Colonel Forrest passed through 
Columbia with his force (three thousand strong), and six 
pieces of artillery, to Decatur, Alabama. One regimem 
went to Florence. The whole force under Van Dorn at 
Spring Hill does not exceed four thousand ; and are poorly 
clothed. I understand that the force was moving toward 
Tennessee river, in order to intercept forces that were being 
sent out by General Grant. 

"Sam Killdare." 

This Archy Cheatham, who it appears had informed 
upon Killdare, was a government contractor, and professed to 
be loyal. The manner in which he obtained his information 
was in this wise : 

One day a genteel, well-dressed young man came to the 
police office and inquired for Judge Brien, an employee of 
the office. The two, it seems, were old acquaintances, and 
for some time maintained a friendly conversation in the 
presence of Colonel Truesdail. The visitor, whose name was 
Stewart, having taken his leave, Brien remarked to the 
colonel : 

" There is a young man who can do us a great deal of 
good." 

" Do you know him ?" said the colonel. 
" Yery well. He talks right." 

The result was that Stewart and Colonel Truesdail soon 
afterward had a private conversation in reference to the 
matter. Stewart stated that he lived about two miles from 
the city upon his plantation, that he was intimate with many 
prominent secessionists, was regarded as a good southern 
man, and could go anywhere within the lines of the Con- 
federacy. The colonel replied that he was in want of just 



SCOUT OF THE ARMY OF THE CUMBERLAND. $2 1 



such a man, and that lie could be the means of accomplishing 
great good. It was an office, however, of vast responsi- 
bility, and, if he should be employed, he would be required 
to take a very stringent and solemn oath, which was read t>i 
him. To all this Stewart assented, and took the oath, only 
stipulating that he should never be mentioned as having 
any connection with the police office. He was consequently 
employed, and told to go to work at once. 

For a time all seemed well enough. One or two minor 
cases of smuggling were developed by him. He subse- 
quently reported that he had become acquainted with the 
cashier of the Planters' Bank, and a Mrs. Bradford who lived 
five miles from the city, and made herself very busy in car- 
rying letters, in which she was aided by Cantrell, the cashier. 
He was also in the habit of meeting large numbers of seces- 
sionists, among whom was Archy Cheatham. He also was a 
member of a club or association which met every Saturday, 
to devise ways and means for aiding the rebellion, and at 
which Mrs. Bradford and Cantrell were constant attendants. 
One day he reported that Mrs. Bradford was just going to 
carry out what- was ostensibly a barrel of flour, but really a 
barrel of contraband goods covered over with flour at each 
end. And so it went on from week to week. Somebody 
was just going to do something, but never did it, or was 
never detected ; and, despite the many fair promises of 
Stewart, the results of his labors were not deemed satisfac- 
tory. 

On the night that Killdare came in from his last trip, 
Stewart was at the office. Something was evidently wrong, 
and Stewart soon left. To some natural inquiries of the 
colonel, Killdare answered, excitedly : 

"Somebody has nearly ruined me, colonel I" 
21 



322 SCOUT OF THE ARMY OF THE CUMBERLAND. 



"How is that, and who can it be?" 

" Well I am sure that it is a man by the name of Stewart 
and Archy Cheatham who have done the mischief. Cheat- 
ham has been out in the country some fourteen miles, and 
there he met Lieutenant Johnston, whom he told that I was 
disloyal to the Confederacy, and one of your spies. The 
result was that I was arrested, and came near — altogether 
too near — hanging for comfort. Johnston telegraphed to 
Van Dorn that he had caught me, but I got away; and 
to make a long story short, I have been arrested and have 
escaped three times." 

This opened the colonel's eyes somewhat, and inquiries 
were at once set on foot, which disclosed the fact that Stew- 
art was a rebel of the deepest dye, and had been * playing 
off" all the time. It was found that he not only informed 
Cheatham of Killdare's business and position, but had him- 
self been out in the country some fourteen miles, and had 
told the neighbors that Killdare had gone south in Trues- 
dail's employ. He told the same thing to two guerrillas 
whom he met, and even taunted Killdare's children by 
saying that he knew where there father had gone. The 
colonel, for once, had been thoroughly deceived by appear- 
ances ; but it was the first and last time. After a month or 
six weeks' search, Stewart was found and committed to the 
penitentiary; and before he leaves that institution it is by 
no means improbable that he will have ample time and op- 
portunity to conclude that his operations, though sharp and 
skilful, were not of the most profitable character. 



SOL. MEREDITH. 



323 



" OLD SORTIE," THE EEBEL GENERAL. 

T^EKE was a jolly old captain in the eighteenth Missouri 
i jgiment of mounted infantry. He was every thing good 
a .id efficient as an officer, a friend, and a gentleman ; but he 
r>iver deemed a close study of the dictionary as essential to 
£-<;tting a living or subduing a southern rebellion. One hot 
d^y, the captain, floating around, sat down under the arbor 
i*. front of a fellow officer's tent, and, picking up a late paper, 
commenced to read aloud the heading of the telegraphic 
column, as follows : — 

" Repulse — of — a — sortie — at — Charleston." Says he, after 
musing a moment :■« — 

" Sortie ? Sortie? A. Sortie? Cap, have the rebels any 
general by the name of A. Sortie ?" 

" Certainly, I've heard of old Sortie frequently." 

"Well, I guess I have," said the captain, " come to think 
now ; I've hearn of his being repulsed very often." 



SOL. MEREDITH. 

A PLEASANT story is told by a correspondent, of Colonel 
Sol. Meredith, of Wayne County, Indiana, commanding the 
nineteenth Indiana, on the Potomac. 

At the Lewinsville skirmish, the colonel was at the head 
of his men, as they were formed in line of battle, under the 
fire of the enemy. As the shells exploded over them, his 
boys would involuntarily duck their heads. The colonel 
saw their motions, and in a pleasant way exhorted them, as 



324 



BALLOONING IN THE ARMY. 



he rode along the line, to hold up their heads and act like 
men. He turned to speak to one of his officers, and at that 
moment an eighteen pounder shell burst within a few yards 
of him, scattering the fragments in all directions. Instinc- 
tively, he jerked his head almost to the saddle-bow, while his 
horse squatted with fear. " Boys," said he as he raised up 
and reined his steed, "you may dodge the large ones!" A 
laugh ran along the line at his expense, and after that no 
more was said about the impropriety of dodging shells. 



BALLOONING IN THE AEMY. 

George Alfred Townsend gives the following brilliant 
descri ption of the balloon service as practiced in McClellan's 
campaign against Eichmond : — 

The aeronaut of the Army of the Potomac was Mr. S. T. 
0. Lowe ; he had made seven thousand ascensions, and his 
army companion was invariably either an artist, a correspon- 
dent, or a telegrapher. 

A minute insulated wire reached from the car to head- 
quarters, and McClellan was thus informed of all that could 
be seen within the Confederate works. Sometimes they re- 
mained aloft for hours, making observations with powerful 
glasses, and once or twice the enemy tested their distance 
with shell. 

On the 13th of April, the Confederates sent up a balloon, 
the first they had employed, at which Lowe was infinitely 
amused. He said it had neither shape nor buoyancy, and 
predicted that it would burst or fall apart after a week. It 



BALLOONING IN THE ARMY. 



325 



certainly occurred that, after a few fitful appearances, tho 
stranger was seen no more, till, on the 28th of June, it 
iloated, like a thing of omen, over the spires of Richmond. 

At that time the Federals were in full retreat, and all the 
acres were covered with their dead. 

On the 11th of April, at five o'clock, an event at once 
amusing and thrilling occurred at our quarters. The com- 
mander-in-chief had appointed his personal and confidential 
friend, General Fitz John Porter, to conduct the seige of 
Yorktown. Porter was a polite, soldierly gentleman, and a 
native of New Hampshire, who had been in the regular 
army since early manhood. He fought gallantly in the 
Mexican war, being thrice promoted and once seriously 
wounded, and he was now forty years of age, — handsome, 
enthusiastic, ambitious, and popular. He made frequent 
ascensions with Lowe, and learned to go aloft alone. One 
day he ascended thrice, and finally seemed as cosily at home 
in the firmament as upon the solid earth. It is needless to 
say that he grew careless, and on this particular morning 
leaped into the car and demanded the cables to be let out 
with all speed. I saw with some surprise that the flurried 
assistants were sending up the great straining canvas with 
a single rope attached. The enormous bag was only par- 
tially inflated, and the loose folds opened and shut with a 
crack like that of a musket. Noisily, fitfully, the yellow 
mass rose into the sky, the basket rocking like a feather 
in the zephyr ; and, just as I turned aside to speak to a com- 
rade, a sound came from overhead, like the explosion of a 
shell, and something striking me across the face laid me flat 
upon the ground. 

Half blind and stunned, 1 staggered to my feet, but the ail 
seemed full of <sries and curses. Opening my eyes ruefully 



326 



BALLOONING IN THE ARMY. 



I saw all faces turned upwards, and when I looked above,- - 
the balloon was adrift. 

The treacherous cable, rotted with vitrol, had snapped in 
twain ; one fragment had been the cause of my downfall, and 
the other trailed, like a great entrail, from the receding ear, 
where Fitz John Porter was bounding upward upon a 
Pegasus that he could neither check nor direct. 

The whole army was agitated by the unwonted occurrence. 
From battery No. 1, on the brink of the York, to the mouth 
of Warwick river, every soldier and officer was absorbed. 
Far within the Confederate lines the confusion extended. 
We heard the enemy's alarm- guns, and directly the signal 
flags were waving up and down our front. 

The general appeared directly over the edge of the car. 
He was tossing his hands frighteneclly, and shouting some- 
thing that we could not comprehend. 

" — pen — the — valve !" cried Lowe, in his shrill tones ; 
"climb — to — the — netting — and — reach — the — valve — rope." 

" The valve ! — the valve I" repeated a multitude of tongues, 
and all gazed with thrilling interest at the retreating hulk 
that still kept straight upward, swerving neither to the east 
nor the west. 

It was a weird spectacle, — that frail, fading oval, gliding 
against the sky, floating in the serene azure, the little vessel 
swinging silently beneath, and a hundred thousand martial 
men watching the loss of their brother in arms, but power- 
less to relieve or recover him. Had Fitz John Porter been 
drifting down the rapids of Niagara, he could not have been 
so far from human assistance. But we saw him directly, no 
bigger than a child's toy, clambering up the netting and 
reaching for the cord. 

" He can't do it," muttered a man beside me ; " the wind 



BALLOONING IN THE ARMY. 



327 



blows the valve-rope to and fro, and only a spry, cool-headed 
fellow can catch it." 

We saw the general descend, and appearing again over 
the edge of the basket, he seemed to be motioning, to the 
breathless hordes below, the story of his failure. Then he 
dropped out of sight, and when we next saw him, he was re- 
connoitering the Confederate works through a long black 
spyglass. A great laugh went up and down the lines as this 
cool procedure was observed, and then a cheer of applause 
ran from group to group. For a moment it was doubtful 
that the balloon would float in either direction ; it seemed to 
falter, like an irresolute being, and moved reluctantly south- 
eastward, toward Fortress Monroe. A huzza, half uttered, 
quivered on every lip. All eyes glistened, and some were 
dim with tears of joy. But the wayward canvas now turned 
due westward, and was blown rapidly toward the Confederate 
works. Its course was fitfully direct, and the wind seemed 
to veer often, as if contrary currents, conscious of the oppor- 
tunity, were struggling for the possession of the daring navi- 
gator. The south wind held mastery for awhile, and the bal- 
loon passed the Federal front amid a howl of despair from 
the soldiery. It kept right on, over sharpshooters, rifle-pits, 
and outworks, and finally passed, as if to deliver up its 
freight, directly over the heights of Yorktown. The cool 
courage, either of heroism or despair, had seized upon Fit;; 
John Porter. He turned his black glass upon the ramparts 
and masked cannon below, upon the remote camps, upon the 
beleaguered town, upon the guns of Gloucester Point, and 
upon distant Norfolk. Had he been reconnoitring from a 
secure perch at the tip of the moon, he could not have been 
more vigilant, and the Confederates probably thought this 
some Yankee device to peer into their sanctuary in despite 



328 



BALLOONING IN THE ARMY. 



of ball or shell. None of their great guns could be brought 
to bear upon the balloon ; but there were some discharges 
of musketry that appeared to have no effect, and finally 
even these demonstrations ceased. Both armies, in solemn 
silence, were gazing aloft, while the imperturbable mariner 
continued to spy out the land. 

The sun was now rising behind us, and roseate rays strug- 
gled up to the zenith, like the arcs made by showery bombs. 
They threw a hazy atmosphere upon the balloon, and the 
light shone through the network like the sun through the 
ribs of the skeleton ship in the Ancient Mariner. Then, as 
ail looked agape, the air-craft "plunged, and tacked, and 
veered," and drifted rapidly toward the Federal lines again. 

The allelujah that now went up shook the spheres, and 
when he had regained our camp limits, the general was seen 
clambering up again to clutch the valve-rope. This time he 
was successful, and the balloon fell like a stone, so that all 
hearts once more leaped up, and the cheers were hushed. 
Cavalry rode pell-mell from several directions, to reach the 
place of descent, and the general's personal staff galloped 
past me like the wind, to be the first at his debarkation. I 
followed the throng of soldiery with due haste, and came 
up to the horsemen in a few minutes. The balloon had 
struck a canvas tent with great violence, felling it as if by a 
bolt, and the general, unharmed, had disentangled himself 
from innumerable folds of oiled canvas, and was now the 
cynosure of an immense group of people. While the officers 
shook his hands, the rabble bawled their satisfaction in 
hurrahs, and a band of music marching up directly, the 
throng on foot and horse gave him a vociferous escort to his 
quarters. 

Five miles east of Eichmond, in the middle of May, we 



BALLOONING IN THE ARMY. 



329 



round the balloon already partially inflated, resting behind a 
ploughed hill that formed one of a ridge or chain of hills, 
bordering the Chiekahominy. The stream was only a half- 
mile distant, but the balloon was sheltered from observation 
by reason of its position in the hollow. 

Heretofore the ascensions had been made from remote 
places, for there was good reason to believe that batteries 
lined the opposite hills ; but now, for the first time, Lowe 
intended to make an ascent whereby he could look into 
Kichmond, count the forts encircling it, and note the number 
and position of the camps that intervened. The balloon 
was named the " Constitution," and looked like a semi-dis- 
tended boa-constrictor, as it flapped, with a jerking sound, 
and shook its oiled and painted folds. It was anchored to 
the ground by stout ropes affixed to stakes, and also by sand- 
bags which hooked to its netting. The basket lay alongside ; 
the generators were contained in blue wooden wagons, 
marked " U. S. ;" and the gas was fed to the balloon through 
rubber and metallic pipes. A tent or two, a quantity of 
vitriol in green and wicker carboys, some horses and trans- 
portation teams, and several men that assisted the inflation, 
were the only objects to be remarked. As some time was 
to transpire before the arrangements were completed, I re- 
sorted to one of the tents and took a comfortable nap. The 
" Professor" aroused me at three o'clock, when I found the 
canvas straining its bonds, and emitting a hollow sound, as 
of escaping gas. The basket was made fast directly, the 
telescopes tossed into place ; the Professor climbed to the 
side, holding by the network ; and I coiled up in a rope at 
the bottom. 

" Stand by your cables," he said, and the bags of ballast 
were at once cut away. Twelve men took each a, rope in 



330 



BALLOONING IN THE ARMY. 



hand, and played out slowly, letting us glide gently upward. 
The earth seemed to be falling away, and we poised motion- 
less in the blue ether. The tree-tops sank downward, the 
hills dropped noiselessly through space, and directly the 
Chickahominy was visible beyond us, winding like a ribbon 
of silver through the ridgy landscape. 

Far and wide stretched the Federal camps. We saw faces 
turned upward gazing at our ascent, and heard clearly, as 
in a vacuum, the voices of soldiers. At every second the 
prospect widened, the belt of horizon enlarged, remote farm 
houses came in view ; the earth was like a perfectly flat sur 
face, painted with blue woods, and streaked with pictures of 
roads, fields, fences, and streams. As we climbed higher, 
the river seemed directly beneath us, the farms on the 
opposite bank were plainly discernible, and Eichmond lay 
only a little way off, enthroned on its many hills, with the 
James stretching white and sinuous from its feet to the hori- 
zon. We could see the streets, the suburbs, the bridges, the 
outlying roads, nay, the moving masses of people. The 
Capitol sat, white and colossal, on Shockoe Hill, the dingy 
buildings of the Tredegar Works blackened the river-side 
above, the hovels of Eockets clustered at the hither limits, and 
one by one we made out our familiar hotels, public edifices, 
and vicinities. The fortifications were revealed in part only, 
for they took the hue of the soil, and blended with it ; but 
many camps were plainly discernible, and by means of the 
glasses we separated tent from tent, and hut from hut. The 
Confederates were seen running to the cover of the woods, 
that we might not discover their numbers, but we knew the 
location of their camp-fires by the smoke that curled toward us. 

A panorama so beautiful would have been rare at any 
time, but this was thrice interesting from its past and coining 



BALLOONING IN THE ARMY. 



33] 



associations. Across those plains the hordes at our feet were 
either to advance victoriously, or be driven eastward with 
dusty banners and dripping hands. Those white farm-houses 
were to be receptacles for the groaning and the mangled; 
thousands were to be received beneath the turf of those pas- 
ture fields ; and no rod of ground on any side, that should 
not, sooner or later, smoke with the blood of the slain. 

" Guess I've got 'em now, jest where I want 'em," said 
Lowe, with a gratified laugh ; "jest keep still as you mind to, 
and squint your eye through my glass, while I make a sketch 
of the roads and the country. Hold hard there, and anchor 
fast !" he screamed to the people below. Then he fell im- 
perturbably to work, sweeping the country with his hawk- 
eye, and escaping nothing that could contribute to the com- 
pleteness of his jotting. 

We had been but a few minutes thus poised, when close 
below, from the edge of a timber stretch, puffed a volume of 
white smoke. A second afterward, the air quivered with the 
peal of a cannon. A third, and we heard the splitting shriek 
of a shell, that passed a little to our left, but in exact range, 
and burst beyond us in the ploughed field, heaving up the 
clay as it exploded. 

" Ha I" said Lowe, " they have got us foul ! Haul in the 
cables — quick I" he shouted in a fierce tone. 

At the same instant, the puff, the report, and the shriek 
was repeated ; but this time the shell burst to our right in 
mid air, and scattered fragments around and below us. 

" Another shot will do our business," said Lowe, between 
his teeth ; " it isn't a mile, and they have got the range." 

Again the puff and the whizzing shock. I closed my 
eyes, and held my breath hard. The explosion was so close, 
that the pieces of shell seemed driven across my face, and 
my ears quivered with the sound. T looked at Lowe, to see 



332 



BALLOONING IN THE ARMY. 



if he was struck He had sprung to his feet, and clutched 
the cordage frantically. 

u Are you pulling in there, you men ?" he bellowed, with 
a loud imprecation. 

a Puff! bang! whiz-z-z-z! splutter I" broke a third shell, 
and my heart was wedged in my throat. 

I saw at a glimpse the whole bright landscape again. I 
heard the voices of soldiers below, and saw them running 
across fields, fences, and ditches, to reach our anchorage. 
I saw some drummer-boys digging in the field beneath for 
one of the buried shells. I saw the waving of signal flags, 
the commotion through the camps, — officers galloping their 
horses, teamsters whipping their mules, regiments turning 
out, drums beaten, and batteries limbered up. I remarked, 
last of all, the site of the battery that alarmed us, and, by 
a strange sharpness of sight and sense, believed that I saw 
the gunners swabbing, ramming, and aiming the pieces. 

" Puff ! bang ! whiz-z-z-z ! splutter ! crash !" 

" Puff! bang ! whiz-z-z-z ! splutter! crash I" 

" My God !" said Lowe, hissing the words slowly and 
terribly, u they have opened upon us from another battery /" 

The scene seemed to dissolve. A cold dew broke from 
my forehead. I grew blind and deaf. I had fainted. 

" Pitch some water in his face," said somebody. " lie 
ain't used to it. Hallo ! there he comes to." 

I staggered to my feet. There must have been a thousand 
men about us. They were looking curiously at the 
aeronaut and me. The balloon lay fuming and struggling 
on the clods. 

" Three cheers for the Union Bal-loon !" called a little 
fellow at my side. 

" Hip, hip — hoorooar ! hoorooar ! hoorooar! " 
" Tiger-r-r — yah ! whoop I" 



LIEUTENANT 'S PERFUMED BREATH. 333 



RATTLESNAKES vs. EEBELS. 

The best piece of satire upon the leniency observed by 
the authorities, in the early part of the war, in reference to 
rebels found commiting depredations, is contained in the fol- 
lowing story : — Some of the soldiers belonging to General 
Cox's army, stationed at Kanawha, Yirginia, caught a large 
rattlesnake, which manifested a most mischievous disposition, 
snapping and thrusting out its forked tongue at all who came 
near it. The boys at last got tired of the reptile, and, as 
nobody wanted such a dangerous companion, the question 
arose, " What shall we do with him ?" This question was 
propounded several times without an answer, when a half 
drunken soldier, who was lying near, upon his back, rolled 
upon his side, and relieved his companions by quietly re- 
marking : " D — n it ! swear him, and let him go 1" 



LIEUTENANT 'S PERFUMED BREATH. 

Little Freddy H., a four-year-old, son of Chaplain H., of 
a New York regiment of volunteers, perpetrated a good 
thing while said regiment was at camp at Suffolk. A smart 
looking lieutenant, with dashing air and perfumed breath, came 
into a tent where Freddy was. The little soldier scanned 
him very closely, and when a convenient opportunity offered 
itself, he said to the lieutenant: "You are a doctor; I know 
you are a doctor." " No, my little man," replied the officer, 
" you are mistaken this time ; I am not a doctor." " Yes, 
you are a doctor , too," replied Freddy ; " I know you are a 



334 



A DARING SCOUT AND SPY. 



doctor; for I can smell the medicine/" This was too good a 
thing to be kept, and half an hour did not elapse before it 
had spread throughout the regiment. 



A DARING SCOUT AND SPY. 

Among the Union men and officers in our armies, none 
have been more earnest in their patriotism, or more ready to 
do and dare every thing for the Union cause, than some of 
the citizens and natives of Southern States. To be a Union 
man in the Southern Atlantic or Gulf States, meant, unless 
the man's social position was of the very highest, to be a 
ma* tyr ; to be robbed, persecuted, stripped of all the com • 
forts of life, deprived of a home, and often to be conscripted, 
imprisoned, shot, hung, or to suffer a thousand deaths in 
the tortures and indignities inflicted on his helpless family. 
Yet, with all this before them, many southern men dared 
to be true to their allegiance to the National Government, 
and to enter its service. As was to be expected, these 
men proved the most serviceable and fearless of the 
Union scouts and spies. Their familiarity with the country 
was of great service to them, and the remembrance of the 
wrongs they had endured fired them with ru energy and 
zeal, and a desire to punish the foe, which rendered them 
invaluable. Among the men of this class, who have ren- 
dered the most efficient service to the national cause, was a 
young Georgian, born of Scotch parents, near Augusta, 
Georgia, in the year 1832. His real name was concealed, in 
consequence of the peril which would have accrued to his 
relatives, had it been known ; but he was known to some 



A DARING SCOUT AND SPY. 



335 



extent in the Union army as John Morford. A blacksmith 
by trade, he early engaged in railroad work, and at the 
opening of the war was master mechanic npon one of the 
southern railroads. He was a decided Union man, and made 
no secret of his opinions, and was in consequence discharged 
from his situation, and not allowed employment upon any 
other railroad. Morgan's cavalry was also sent to his farm, 
and stripped it ; and when he applied to the guerrilla leader 
for pay, for the property thus taken, he was told he should 
have it if he would only prove his loyalty to the south. 
As he would not do this, Morgan cursed and abused him, 
threatened to have him shot, and finally sent him under arrest 
to one Major Peyton. The major endeavored, but without any 
success, to convince him that the cause of the south was right ; 
but Morford proving firm to his Union sentiments, he began 
to threaten him, declaring that he should be hung within 
two weeks. Morford coolly replied that he was sorry for 
that, as he should have preferred to live a little longer, but, 
if it must be so, he couldn't help it. Finding him unterrified, 
Peyton cooled down, and finally told him that if he would 
give a bond of one thousand dollars, as security for his good 
behavior, and take the oath of allegiance to the Southern 
Confederacy, he would release him and protect his property. 
After some hesitation — no other plan of escape occurring to 
him — Morford assented, and took the required oath ; upon 
the back of which Peyton wrote, " If you violate this, I will 
hang you." 

With this safeguard, Morford returned to his farm and 
lived a quiet life. Buying a span of horses, he devoted him- 
self to the cultivation of his land, seeing as few persons as 
he could, and talking with none. His house had previously 
been the headquarters of the Union men, but was now 



336 



A DARING- SCOUT AND SPY. 



deserted by them ; and its ownei endeavored to live up to 
the letter of the obligation he had taken. For a short time 
all went well enough ; but one day a squad of cavalry came, 
with a special written order from Major Peyton, to take his 
two horses, which they did. This was too much for human 
nature ; and Morford, perceiving that no faith could be 
placed in the assurances of those in command, determined to 
be revenged upon them and their cause. His house again 
became a secret rendezvous for Unionists; and by trusty 
agents he managed to send regular and valuable information 
to General Buell — then in command in Tennessee. At 
length, however, in May, 1862, he was betrayed by one in 
whom he had placed confidence, and arrested upon the 
charge of sending information to General Crittenden, at 
Battle creek. He indignantly denied the charge, and declared 
that he could easily prove himself innocent if released for 
that purpose. After three days' confinement, this was 
assented to ; and Morford, knowing full well that he could 
not do what he had promised, made a hasty retreat, and fled 
to the mountains, whence, some days afterward, he emerged, 
and went to McMinnville, at which place General Iselson 
was then in command. 

Here he remained until the rebel force left that vicinity, 
when he again went home, and lived undisturbed upon his 
farm, until Bragg returned with his army. The presence in 
the neighborhood of so many officers cognizant of his former 
arrest and escape rendered flight a second time necessary. 
He now went to the camp of General Donelson, with whom 
he had some acquaintance, and soon became very friendly 
there — acting the while in the double capacity of beef con- 
tractor for the rebel army, and spy for General Crittenden. 
Leaving General Donelson after some months 1 stay, although 



A DARING SCOUT AND SPY. 



337 



earnescly requested to remain longer, Morford lext found 
his way to Nashville, where he made numerous expeditions 
as a spy for General Negley. Buell was at Louisville, and 
Nashville was then the Federal outpost. Morford travelled 
about very readily upon passes given him by General Donel 
son, making several trips to Murfreesboro', and one to 
Cumberland Gap. 

Upon his return from the latter, he was arrested near 
Lebanon, Tennessee, about one o'clock at night, by a party 
of four soldiers upon picket duty at that point. Halting 
him, the following conversation occurred : 

" Where do you live ?" 

"Near Stewart's Ferry, between here and Nashville." 

u Where have you been, and what for ?" 

" Up to see my brother, to get from him some jeans cloth 
and socks for another brother in the Confederate army." 

''How does it happen you are not in the army yourself? 
That looks rather suspicious." 

" Ob, I live too near the Federal lines to be conscripted," 

" Well, we'll have to send you to Murfreesboro. I reckon 
you're all right ; but those are our orders, and we can't go 
behind them." 

To this Morford readily consented, saying he had no ob- 
jection ; and the party sat down by the fire and talked in 
a friendly manner for some time. Morford soon remembered 
that he had a bottle of brandy with him, and generously 
treated the crowd. Further conversation was followed by a 
second drink, and soon by a third. One of the party now 
proposed to exchange his Eosinantish mare for a fine horse 
which Morford rode. The latter was not inclined to trade : 
but objection was useless, and he finally yielded, receiving 
seventy -five dollars in Confederate money and the mare. 
22 



338 



A DARING SCOUT AND SPY. 



The trade pleased the soldier, and a present of a pair of 
socks still further enhanced his pleasure. His companions 
were also similarly favored, and testified their appreciation 
of the gift by endeavoring to purchase the balance of Mor- 
ford's stock. He would not sell, however, as he Avished to 
send them to his brother at Kichmond, by a person who had 
given public notice that he was soon going there. A fourth 
drink made all supremely happy ; at which juncture their 
prisoner asked permission to go to a friend's house, only a 
quarter of a mile off, and stay until morning, when he would 
go with them to Murfreesboro. His friend of the horse- 
trade, now very mellow, thought he need Dot go to Mur- 
freesboro at all, and said he would see what the others said 
about it. Finally it was concluded that he was " right," and 
might ; whereupon he mounted the skeleton mare and rode 
rejoicingly into Nashville. 

On his next trip southward he was arrested by Colonel 
John T. Morgan, just as he came out of the Federal lines, 
and, as his only resort, joined Forrest's command, and was 
furnished with a horse and gun. The next day Forrest 
made a speech to his men, and told them that they were 
now going to capture Nashville. The column immediately 
began its march, and Morford, by some means, managed to 
have himself placed in the advance. Two miles below La- 
vergne a halt for the night was made; but Morford's horse 
was unruly, and could not be stopped, carrying its rider 
ahead and out of sight. It is needless to say that this ob- 
stinacy was not overcome until Nashville was reached, nor 
that, when Forrest came the next day, General Negley was 
amply prepared for him. 

At this time Nashville was invested. Buell was known 
to be advancing toward the city, but no scouts had been able 



/ 



A DARING SCOUT AND SPY. 



339 



t6 go or come from him. A handsome reward <vas offered 
to any one who wDuld carry a dispatch safely through to 
Bowling Green, and Morford undertook to do it. Putting 
the document under the lining of his boot, he started for 
Gallatin, where he arrived safely. 

For some hours he sauntered around the place, lounged 
in and out of bar rooms, made friends with the rebel soldiers, 
and toward evening purchased a small bag of corn meal, a 
bottle of whiskey, a pound or two of salt, and some smaller 
articles, which he threw across his shoulder and started up 
the Louisville road, with hat on one side, hair in admirable 
disorder, and, apparently, gloriously drunk. The pickets 
jested at and made sport of him, but permitted him to pass. 
The meal, etc., was carried six miles, when he suddenly 
became sober, dropped it, and hastened on to Bowling 
Green, and there met General Eosecrans, who had just ar- 
rived. His information was very valuable. Here he re- 
mained until the army came up and passed on, and then 
set out on his return on foot, as he had come. He sup- 
posed that our forces had gone by way of Gallatin, but when 
near that place learned that it was still in possession of the 
rebels, and so stopped for the night in a shanty between 
Morgan's pickets, on the north side, and Woolford's (Union), 
on the south side. During the night the two had a fight, 
which finally centered around the shanty, and resulted in 
driving Morford to the woods. In two or three hours he 
came back for his clothes, and found that the contending 
parties had disappeared, and that the railroad tunnels had 
been filled with wood and fired. Hastily gathering his 
effects together, he made his way to Tyree Springs, and 
thence to Nashville. 

For a short time he acted as a detective of the army police 



b40 



A DARING SCOUT AND SPY. 



at Nashville, assuming the character of a rebel soldier, anil 
living in the families of prominent secessionists. In this 
work he was very successful ; but it had too little of danger 
and adventure, and he returned again to scouting, making 
several trips southward, sometimes without trouble, but once 
or twice being arrested and escaping as best he could. In 
these expeditions he visited McMinnville, Murfreesboro, Alta- 
moot, on the Cumberland mountains, Bridgeport, Chattanooga, 
and other places of smaller note. He travelled usually in the 
guise of a smuggler, actually obtaining orders for goods from 
prominent rebels, and sometimes the money in advance, fill- 
ing them in Nashville, and delivering the articles upon his 
next trip. Just before the battle of Stone river, he received 
a large order to be filled for the rebel hospitals; went to 
Nashville, procured the medicine, and returned to McMinn- 
ville, where he delivered some of it. Thence he travelled to 
Bradyville, and thence to Murfreesboro, arriving there just as 
the battle began. Presenting some of the surgeons with a sup- 
ply of morphine, he assisted them in attending the wounded 
foi a day or two, and then went to a hospital tent in the 
woods near the railroad, where he also remained ODe day and 
part of another. The fight was now getting hot, and, fearful 
that somebody would recognize him, he left Murfreesboro on 
Friday, and went to McMinnville. He had been there but 
little more than an hour, having barely time to put up his 
horse and step into a house near by to see some wounded 
men, when two soldiers arrived in search of him. Their de- 
scription of him was perfect; but he escaped by being out of 
sight — the friend with whom he was supposed to be, declaring, 
though closely questioned, that he had not seen and knew 
nothing of him. In a few minutes pickets were thrown out 
around the town, and it was two days before he could get 



A DARING SCOUT AND SPY. 



341 



away Obtaining a pass to Chattanooga at last, only through 
the influence of a lady acquaintance, with it he passed the 
guards; but when once out of sight, turned off from the 
Chattanooga road and made his way safely to Nashville. 

General Rosecrans was now in possession of Murfreesboro 
and thither Morford proceeded with some smuggler's goods 
with a view to another trip. The necessary permission was 
readily obtained, and he set out for Woodbury. Leaving 
Ms wagon outside the rebel lines, he proceeded on foot to 
McMinnville, arriving there on the 19th of January, 1863, 
and finding General John H. Morgan, to whom he represent- 
ed himself as a former resident in the vicinity of Woodbury ; 
his family, however, had moved away, and he would like 
permission to take his wagon and bring away the household 
goods. This was granted, and the wagon brought to McMinn- 
ville, whence Morford went to Chattanooga, representing 
himself along the road as a fugitive from the Yankees. Near 
Chattanooga he began selling his goods to Unionists and 
rebels alike, at enormous prices, and soon closed them out 
at a profit of from four hundred to five hundred dollars. At 
Chattanooga he remained a few days, obtained all the infor-' 
mation he could, and returned to Murfreesboro without trou- 
ble. 

His next and last trip is the most interesting and daring of 
all his adventures. Making a few days' stay in Murfreesboro, 
he went to McMinnville, and remained there several days, 
during which time he burned Hickory Creek bridge, and 
sent a report of it to General Rosecrans. This he managed 
with so much secresy and skill as to escape all suspicion of 
complicity in the work, mingling freely with the citizens and 
talking the matter over in all its phases. From McMinnville 
Morfori proceeded to Chattanooga, and remained there 



342 



A DARING SCOUT AND SPY. 



nearly a week, when he learned that three of our scouts were 
imprisoned in the Hamilton county jail, at Harrison, Tennes- 
see, and were 10 be shot on the first Friday in May. Deter- 
mined to attempt their rescue, he sent? a Union man to the 
town' to ascertain who was jailer what the number of the 
guards, how they were placed, and inquire into the condition 
of things in general about the jail. Upon receipt of his re- 
port, Morford gathered about him nine Union men, on the 
night of Tuesday, April 21, 1863, and started for Harrison. 
Before reaching the place, however, they heard rumors that 
the guard had been greatly strengthened ; and, fearful that it 
wo aid prove too powerful for them, the party retreated to the 
mountains on the north side of the Tennessee river, where 
they remained concealed until Thursday night. On Wednes- 
day night the same man who had previously gone to the 
town was again sent to reconnoitre the position. Thursday 
morning he returned and said that the storv of a strong 
guard was all false : there were but two in addition to the 
jailer. 

Morford's party was now reduced to six, including himself; 
but he resolved to make the attempt that night. Late in the 
afternoon all went down to the river and loitered around until 
dark, when they procured boats and crossed to the opposite 
bank. Taking the Chattanooga and Harrison road, they 
entered the town, looked around at leisure, saw no soldiers 
nor any thing unusual, and proceeded toward the jail. Ap- 
proaching quite near, they threw themselves upon the ground 
and surveyed the premises carefully. The jail was sur- 
rounded by a high board fence, in which were two gates. 
Morford's plan of operations was quickly arranged. Making 
a prisoner of one of his own men, he entered the enclosure, 
posting a sentinel at each gate. Once inside, a light was 



A DARING SCOUT AND SPY. 



343 



visible in the jail, and Morford marched confidently ur> to 
the door arid rapped. The jailer thrust his head out of a 
window and asked what was wanted. He was told, a Here 
is a prisoner to put in the jail." Apparently satisfied, the 
jailer soon opened the door and admitted the twain into the 
entry. In a moment, however, he became alarmed, and 
hastily exclaiming, " Hold on 1" stepped out. 

For ten minutes Morford waited patiently for his return, 
supposing, of course, that he could not escape from the yard, 
both gates being guarded. Not making his appearance, it 
was found that the pickets had allowed him to pass them. 
This rather alarming fact made haste necessary, and Morford, 
returning to the jail, said he must put his prisoner in imme- 
diately, and demanded the keys forthwith. The women de- 
clared in positive terms that they hadn't them, and did not 
know where they were. One of the guards was discovered 
in bed and told to get the keys. Proving rather noisy and 
saucy, he was reminded that he might get his head taken off 
if he were not quiet— .-which intimation effectually silenced 
him. Morford again demanded the keys, and the women, 
somewhat frightened, gave him the key to the outside door. 
Unlocking it, and lighting up the place with candles, he 
found himself in a room around the sides of which was 
ranged a line of wrought-iron cages. In one of these were 
five persons, four white and one negro. Carrying out the 
character he had assumed of a rebel soldier in charge of a 
prisoner, Morford talked harshly enough to the caged men, 
and threatening to hang them at once, at which they were 
very naturally alarmed, and began to beg for mercy. For a 
third time the keys to the inner room, in which the scouts 
were, were demanded, and a third time the women denied 
having them. An axe was then ordered to be brought, but 



344 



A DARING SCOUT AND SPY. 



there was none about the place : so said they. Morford saw 
that they were trifling with him, and determined to stop it. 
Snatching one of the jailer's boys, standiDg near, by the 
collar, and drawing his sabre, he told him he wo aid cut his 
head off if he did not bring him an axe in two minutes. 
This had the desired effect, and the axe was forthcoming. 

Morford now began cutting away at the lock, when he was 
startled by hearing the word "halt!" at the gate. Of his 
five men two were at the gates, two were inside as a guard, 
and one was holding the light. Eeady for a fight he went 
out to see what was the matter. The sentinel reporting that 
he had halted an armed man outside, Morford walked out to 
him and demanded : 

What are you doing here with that gun ?" 

" Miss Laura said you were breaking down the jail, and I 
want to see McAllister, the jailer. "Where is he ?" was the 
reply. 

" Well, suppose I am breaking down the jail : what are 
you going to do about it ?" 

" I am going to stop it if I can." 
" What's your name?" 
"Lowry Johnson." 

By this time Morford had grasped the muzzle of the gun, 
and told him to let go. Instead of complying, Johnson tried 
to .pull it away ; but a blow upon the neck from Morford's 
sabre soon made him drop it. Morford now began to search 
him for other weapons, but before he had concluded the 
operation Johnson broke away, leaving a part of his cloth- 
ing in Morford's hands. The latter drew his revolver and 
pursued, firing five shots at him, sometimes at a distance of 
only six or eight paces. A cry, as of pain, showed that he 
was struck, but he managed to reaeh the hotel (kept by his 



A DARING SCOUT AND SPY. 



345 



brother), and, bursting in the door, which was fastened, es- 
caped into the house. Morford followed, but too late. John- 
son's brother now came out and rang the bell in front, which 
gathered a crowd about the door ; but Morford, not at all 
daunted, told them that if they wanted to guard the jail they 
had better be about it quick, as he was going to burn it and 
the town in the bargain. This so frightened them that no 
further demonstration was made, and Morford returned to the 
jail unmolested. There he and his men made so much 
shouting and hurrahing as to frighten the people of the 
town beyond measure; and many lights from upper story 
windows were extinguished, and the streets were deserted. 

A half hour's work was necessary to break off the outside 
lock — a splendid burglar-proof one. Morford now discovered 
that the door was double, and that the inner one was made 
still more secure by being barred with three heavy log chains. 
These were cut in two with the axe * but the strong lock of 
the door still remained. He again demanded the key, and 
told the women if it was not produced he would murder the 
whole of them. The rebel guard, Lew. Luttrell by name, 
was still in bed. Eising up, he said that the key was not 
there. Morford now ordered Luttrell to get out of bed, in a 
tone so authoritative that that individual deemed it advisable 
to comply , Scarcely was he out, however, before Morford 
struck at him with his sabre ; but he was too far off, and the 
blow fell upon one of the children, drawing some blood. 
This frightened the women, and, concluding that he was 
about to put his threat in execution, and would murder them 
surely enough, they produced the key without further words. 
No time was lost in unlocking the door and releasing the in- 
mates of the room. Procuring their clothes for them, and 
arming one with Johnson's gun, the whole party left the jail 
and hurried toward the nver. Among the released prisoners 



346 



A DARING SCOUT AND SPY. 



was a rebel with a wooden leg, the original having been shot 
off at Manassas. He persisted in accompanying the others, 
and was only induced to go back by the intimation that 
M dead men tell no tales." 

Crossing the river in the boats, they were moved to another 
place at some distance, to preclude the possibility of being 
tracked and followed. All now hid themselves among the 
mountains, and the same Union man was asrain sent to Har- 
rison, this time to see how severely Johnson was wounded 
He returned in a day or two, and reported that he had a 
severe sabre cut on the shoulder, a bullet through the muscle 
of his right arm, and two slight wounds in one of his hands, 
Morford and his men remained in the mountains until all 
search for the prisoners was over, then went to the Cumber- 
land mountains, where they remained one day and a portion 
of another, and then proceeded in the direction of McMinn- 
ville. Hiding themselves in the woods near this place during 
the day, seeing but not seen, they travelled that night to 
within eleven miles of Woodbury, when they struck across 
the road from McMinnville to Woodbury. Near Logan's 
Plains they were fired on by a body of rebel cavalry, but, 
though some forty shots were fired, no one of the ten J 
harmed, Morford having one bullet hole in his coat. Tim 
cavalry, however, pursued them across the barrens, sur- 
rounded them, and supposed themselves sure of their game: 
but Morford and his companions scattered and hid away, not 
one being captured or found. Night coming on, the cavalry 
gave up the chase, and went on to Woodbury, where they 
threw out pickets, not doubting that they would pick up the 
objects of their search during the night. Morford, however, 
was informed of this fact by a citizen, and, in consequence, 
lay concealed all the next day, making his way safely to 
Murfreesboro, with all of his company, the day after. 



SCOUTING IN EA.ST TENNESSEE. 



347 



SCOUTING IN EAST TENNESSEE. 

Edmund Kikke (Mr. J. R. Gilmore), who has explored 
extensively the regions desolated by the war, thus narrates 
one of the adventures of a Union East Tennessean, who had 
been acting as a scout for General Rosecrans, in his little 
volume "Down in Tennessee:" — 

I was dreaming of home, and of certain-flaxen-haired juve- 
niles who are accustomed to call me " Mister Papa," when a 
heavy hand was laid on my shoulder, and a gruff voice said : 

" Doan't want ter 'sturb yer, stranger, but thar haint nary 
nother sittin'-place in the whole kear." 

I drew in my extremities, and he seated himself before me, 
He was a spare, muscular man of about forty, a little above 
the medium height, with thick, sandy hair and beard, and a 
fall, clear, gray eye. There was nothing about him to attract 
particular attention except his clothing, but that was so out 
of all keeping with the place and the occasion, that I opened 
my eyes to their fullest extent, and scanned him from head 
to foot. He wore the gray uniform of a secession officer, and 
in the breast of his coat, right over his heart, was a round 
hole, scorched at the edges, and darkly stained with blood ! 
Over his shoulder was slung a large army revolver, and at his 
side, in a leathern sheath, hung a weapon that seemed a sort 
of cross between a bowie-knife and a butcher's cleaver. On 
his head, surmounted by a black plume, was a moose-colored 
slouched hat, and falling from beneath it, and tied under his 
chin, was a white cotton handkerchief stiffly saturated with 
blood! Nine motley-clad natives, all heavily armed, had 
entered with him and taken the vacant seats around me, and 
at first view I was inclined to believe that in my sleep the 
train had gone over to the enemy and left me in the hands 



343 



SCOUTING IN EAST TENNESSEE. 



of the Philistines. I was, however, quickly reassured, for, 
looking about, I discovered the Union guard and my fellow- 
travellers all in their previous places, and as unconcerned as 
if no unusual thing had happened. Still, it seemed singular 
that no officer had the new-comer in charge ; and more sin- 
gular that any one in the uniform he wore should be allowed 
to carry arms so freely about him. After awhile, having 
gleaned all the knowledge of him that my eyes could obtain, 
I said, in a pleasant tone : 

" Well, my friend, you appear to take things rather coolly." 

" Oh, yes, sir ! I orter. I've been mighty hard put, but I 
reckon I'm good fur a nother pull now." 

" Where are you from ?' ' 

" Fentress county, nigh onter to Jimtown (Jamestown). 
I'm scoutin' it for Burnside — runnin' boys inter camp ; but 
these fellers wanted ter jine Cunnel Brownlow — the old par- 
son's son — down ter Triune. We put plumb fur Nashville, 
but hed ter turn norard, case the brush down thar ar thick 
with rebs. They'd like ter a hed us." 

" Oh, then you wear that uniform as a disguise on scout- 
ing expeditions?" 

" No, sir ; I never hed sech a rig on afore. 1 allers shows 
the true flag, an' thar haint no risk, 'case, ye see, the whole 
deestrict down thar ar Union folks, an' ary one on 'em would 
house'n me ef all Buckner's army wus at my heels. But 
this time they run me powerful close, an' I hed to show the 
secesh rags." 

As he said this, he looked down on his clean, unworn suit 
of coarse gray with ineffable contempt. 

" And how could you manage to live with such a hole 
there ?" I asked, pointing to the bullet rent in his coat. 

" Oh ! I war n't inside of 'em just then, though I warrant 



SCOUTING IN EAST TENNESSEE. 



349 



me he war a likely feller thet war. I ortent ter a done hit — 
but I hed ter. This war he;" and taking from his side 
pocket a small miniature, he handed it to me. 

It was a plain circlet of gold, attached to a piece of blue 
ribbon. One side of the rim was slightly clipped, as if it had 
been grazed by the passing ball, and the upper portion of the 
ivory was darkly stained with blood ; but enough of it was 
unobscured to show me the features of a young man, with, 
dark, flowing hair, and a full, frank, manly face. With, a 
feeling akin to hcrror I was handing the picture back to the 
scout, when, in low, stammering tones, he said to me : 

" 'Tother side, sir ! Luk at 'tother side." 

I turned it over, and saw the portrait of a young woman, 
scarcely more than seventeen. She had a clear, transparent 
skin, regular, oval features, full, swimming, black eyes, and 
what must have been dark, wavy, brown hair, but changed 
then to a deep auburn by the red stains that tinged the upper 
part of the picture. With intense loathing, I turned almost 
fiercely on the scout, and exclaimed : " And you killed that 
man ?*' 

"Yes, sir, God forgive me — I done hit. But I couldn't 
holp hit. He hed me down — he'd cut me thar," turning up 
his sleeve, and displaying a deep wound on his arm; "an' 
thar I" removing the bandage, and showing a long gash back 
of his ear. " His arm wus riz ter strike agin — in another 
minhit he'd hev cluv my brain. I seed hit, sir, an' I fired! 
God forgiv me, I fired! I wouldn't a done hit ef I'd a 
knowed thet," and he looked down on the face of the sweet 
young girl, and the moisture came into his eyes: "I'd hev 
shot 'im somewhar but yere — somewhar but yere /" and lay- 
ing his hand over the rent in his coat, he groaned as if he 
the wound. With that blood-stained miniature in mv 



i 



350 



SCOUTING IX EAST TENNESSEE. 



hand, and listening: to the broken words of that bmorant 
scout, I realized the horrible barbarity of war. 

After a pause of some minutes, he resumed the conversa- 
tion. 

" They killed one on our boys, sir." 
" Did they ? How was it ?" 

11 Wal, sir, ye see they b'long round the Big Fork, in Scott 
county ; and bein's \ </ar down thar, an' they know'd I war a 
runnin' recruits over the mountins ter Burnside, they telle 1 
me they wanted me ter holp 'em git 'long with the young 
cunnel. They'd ruthar a notion ter him — an' he ar a feilei 
thet haint gro'd everywhar — 'sides all the folks down thar 
swar by the old parson." 

" Well, they ought to, for he's a trump," I remarked, good- 
humoredly, to set the native more at his ease. 

u Ye kin bet high on thet ; he haint notion' else, K he re- 
plied, leaning forward and regarding me with a pleased, 
kindly expression. "Every un down my way used ter take 
his paper; thet an' the Bible war all they ever seed, an* thej 
reckoned one war 'bout so good as 'tother. Wall, the boys 
thort I could git 'em through — an' bein's it made no odds 
to me whar they jined, so long as they did jine, I 'greed ter 
du hit. We put out ten days, yisterday — twelve on 'em, an' 
me — an' struck plumb for Kashville. We lay close daytimes, 
'case, though every hous'n ar Union, the kentry is swarmin' 
with Buckner's men, an 1 we know'd they'd let slide on us jest 
so soon as they could draw a bead. We got : long right 
smart till we fotched the Eoaring river, nigh onter Living- 
ston. We'd 'quired, and hedn't heerd uv ary rebs bein' 
round ; so, foolhardy like, thet evenin' we tuk ter the road 
'fore hit war clar dark. We hedn't g^one more'n a mile till 
we come slap onter 'bout eighty secesh calvary. We ske- 



SCOUTING IN EAST TENNESSEE. 



351 



daddled fur the timber, powerful sudden ; but they war over 
the fence an 7 on us 'fore we got well under cover. 'Bout 
thirty on 'em slid their nags, an' come at us in the brush. I 
seed twarn't no use rurmin'; so I yelled out: 'Stand yer 
ground, boys, an' sell yer lives jest so high as ye kin !' Wall, 
we went at hit ter close quarters — hand ter hand, an' fut ter 
fat — an ye'd better b'lieve thar war some tall fightin' thar fur 
'bout ten mmhits. Oar boys fit like fiens — that little chunk 
uv a feller thar," pointing to a slim, pale-faced youth, not 
more than seventeen, " laid out three on 'em. I'd done up 
two myself, when the cap'n come onter me — but, I've telled 
ye 'bout him ;" and drawing a long breath, he put the minia- 
ture back in his pocket. After a short pause, he continued : 

" When they seed the cap'n war done fur, they fell back a 
piece — them as war left on 'em — ter the edge uv the timber, 
an' hollered fur tuthers ter come on. That guv us time ter 
load up — we'd fit arter the fust fire wuth knives — an' we 
blazed inter 'em. Jest as we done hit, I heerd some more 
calvary comin' up the road, an 1 I war jest tellin' the boys 
we'd hev ter make tracks, when the new fellers sprung the 
fence, an' come plumb at the secesh on a dead run. Thar 
warn't only thirty on 'em, yit the rebs didn't so much as 
make a stand, but skedaddled as ef old Rosey himself hed 
been arter 'em." 

" And who were the new comers ?" 

" Some on Tinker Beaty's men. They'd heerd the firin' 
nigh two mile off, an' come up, suspicionin' how things* wus." 

"But, are there Union bands there? I thought East 
Tennessee was overrun with rebel troops." 

" Wall, hit ar ; but thar's a small chance uv Union gooril- 
las in Fentress an' Overton county. They hide in the moun- 
ting an' light down on the rebs, now an' then, like death on a 



SCOUTING IX EAST TENNESSEE. 



sick parson. Thar is places in them deestricts thet a hundred 
men kin hold agin ten thousand. They know 'em all, 'case 
they wus raised thar, an' they know every bridle path through 
the woods, so it's well nigh unpossible ter kotch 'em. I 
reckon thar's a hundred on 'em, all mounted, an' bein' as they 
haint no tents, nor wagins, nor camp fixin's, they git round 
mighty spry. Thar scouts is allers on the move, an' whar- 
ever thar's a showm', they pounce down on the rebs, cuttin' 
'em ter pieces. Thet's the how they git powder an' provi- 
sions. They never trouble peaceable folk, an' haint no sort 
o 1 'spense ter guvernment ; but they does a heap uv damage 
ter the secesh." 

"Well, they did you a ' powerful' good turn." 

" They did thet ; but we lost one on our boys. He war 
only sixteen — brother ter thet feller thar," pointing to a 
young man sitting opposite. " They hung his father, an' 
now — they's killed him," and he drew a deep sigh. 

" Why did they hang his father ?" 

" Wall, ye see, they kunscripted him — he war over age, 
but they don't mind thet — an' he desarted, meaniu ter git 
ter the Union lines. They kotch ed him in the woods, an' 
hung him right up ter a tree." 

" Was only one of your men hurt ?" 

a Yes, two on 'em wus wounded too bad ter come wuth us. 
The calvary toted 'em off ter the mounting, an' I reckon 
they'll jine 'em when they gits round. But we left elevin uv 
the rebs dead on the ground." 

"Did your men kill so many? The cavalry had a han 1 
in that, I suppose?" 

"Yes, they killed two— thet's all. They couldn't git txt 
'em, they run so. We done the rest." 

"You must have fought like tigers. How many were 
wounded?" 



SCOUTING IN EAST TENNESSEE. 



353 



"Nary one; what wan't dead the boys finished." 

' You don't mean to say that your men killed the wounded 
after the fight V 

" I reckon they did — some four on 'em." 

" My friend, that's nothing but murder. I had hoped the 
rebels did all of that work." 

" Wall, they does — anuff on hit ; an' I never could bring 
my mind ter think it war right or human : but I s'pose thet's 
case I never had a father hung, or a sister ravig'd, or a old 
mother shot down in har bed. Them things, you knows, 
makes a difference." 

u And have any of your men suffered in such ways ?" 

" In sech ways ? Thar haint one on 'em but kin tell you 
things 'ud turn yer blood ter ice. D'ye see thet feller thar ?" 
pointing to a thin, sallow faced man, two seats in our rear. 
" ISTot two months gone, some twenty rebs come ter his house 
while he war layin out in the woods, an' toted his wife — as 
young an' purty a 'oman as yer own sisfcer — off 'bout a mile, 
an' thar tuk thar will uv her — all on 'em ! She made out ter 
crawl home, but it killed har. He warn't wuth har when 
she died, an' hit wus well he warn't, fur he'd hev gone clean 
crazy ef he hed been. He's mor'n half thet now — crazy fur 
blood ! An' kin ye blame him ? Kin ye 'spect a man thet's 
hed sech things done ter him ter show quarter? 'Taint in 
natur' ter do hit. All these boys hes hed jest sich, an' 
things like hit ; an' they go in ter kill or be kilt. They 
doan't ax no marcy, an' they doan't show none. Nigh twenty 
thousand on' em is in Burnside's an' old Kosey's army, an' 
ye kin ax them if they doan't fight like devils. The iron 
has entered thar souls, sir. They feel they's doin' God 
sarvice — an' they is — when they does fur a secesh. An' 
when this war ar over — ef it ever ar over — thar'll be aech a 
23 



354 



THE PICKET GUARD. 



reckonin' wuth the rebs uv East Tennessee as creation nevei 
know'd on afore. Thar wont be one on 'em left this side uv 
hell!" This was said with a vehemence that startled me. 
His eyes actually blazed, and every line on his seamed face 
quivered with passion. To change the subject, I asked : 

" And what did you do after the fight ?" 

"Not knowin' what moight happen, we swapped does 
with sech uv the rebs as hed gray 'uns, an' put north — 
plumb for the mountins. Nigh onter Meigsville we come 
onter a Union man, who holped us ter cut some timber an' 
make a raft — fur we 'lowed the secesh would track us wuth 
houns, an' ter throw 'em off the scent we hed ter take ter the 
water. We got inter Obey's Fork, an' floated down ter the 
Cumberland ; hidin' in the bushes in the daytime, an' floatin' 
at night. We got nigh onter Carthage, an' knowin' the river 
wan't safe no longer, we left hit an' struck 'cross fur the rail- 
road. Thet kentry ar full uv rebs, but hevin' the secesh 
does on, we made out ter git 'nuff ter eat till we got yere." 



THE PICKET GUAED. 

"All quiet along the Potomac," they say, 

" Except now and then a stray picket 
Is shot, as he walks on his beat, to and fro, 

By a rifleman hid in the thicket. 
'Tis nothing — a private or two, now and then, 

Will not count in the news of the battle ; 
Not an officer lost — only one of the men, 

Moaning out, all alone, the death rattle." 



THE PICKET GUARD. 



All quiet along the Potomac to-night, 

Where the soldiers lie peacefull} T dreaming ; 
Their tents, in the rays of the clear autumn moon. 

Or the light of the watch-fires are gleaming. 
A tremulous sigh, as the gentle night-wind 

Through the forest leaves softly is creeping ; 
While stars up above, with their glittering eyes, 

Keep guard — for the army is sleeping. 

There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread 

As he tramps from the rock to the fountain, 
And thinks of the two in the low trundle-bed, 

Far away in the cot on the mountain. 
His musket falls slack, — his face, dark and grim, 

Grows gentle with memories tender, 
As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep — 

For their mother, — may Heaven defend her ! 

The moon seems to shine just as brightly as then, 

That night, when the love yet unspoken 
Leaped up to his lips, — when low, murmured vows 

Were pledged to be ever unbroken. 
Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes, 

He dashes off tears that are welling, 
And gathers his gun closer up to its place, 

As if to keep down the heart-swelling. 

He passes the fountain, the blasted pine-tree — 

The* footstep is lagging and weary ; 
Yet onward he goes, through the broad belt of light, 

Toward the shades of the forest so dreary. 
Hark ! was it the night- wind that rustled the leaves ? 

Was it moonlight so wondrously flashing ? 
It looked like a rifle — " Ha ! Mary, good-by I" 

And the life-blood is ebbing and plashing. 



356 



HOW THE PRISONERS ESCAPE®. 



All quiet along the Potomac to-night, — 
No sound save the rush of the river ; 

While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead, — 
The picket's off duty forever. 



HOW THE PKISONEKS ESCAPED 

FROM THE RICHMOND JAIL — INCREDIBLE UNDERGROUND 
WORK — FRIENDSHIP OF VIRGINIA NEGROES. 

About the beginning of the year 1864 the officers confined 
in Libby prison conceived the idea of effecting their own ex- 
change, and after the matter had been seriously discussed by 
some seven or eight of them, they undertook to dig for a dis- 
tance toward a sewer running into a basin. This they pro- 
posed doing by commencing at a point in the cellar near to 
the chimney. This cellar was immediately under the hospital, 
and was the receptacle for refuse straw, thrown from the beds 
when they were changed, and for other refuse matter. 
Above the hospital was a room for officers, and above that 
yet another room. The chimney ran through all these 
rooms, and prisoners who were in the secret improvised a 
rope, and night after night let working parties down, who 
successfully prosecuted their excavating operations. 

The dirt was hid under the straw and other refuse matter 
in the cellar, and it was trampled down to prevent too great 
a bulk. When the working party had got to a considerable 
distance underground, it was found difficult to haul the dirt 
back by hand, and a spittoon, which had been furnished the 
officers in one of the rooms, was made to serve the purpose 
of a cart. A string was attached to it, and it was run in tb*» 



HOW THE PRISONERS ESCAPED. 



357 



tunnel, and as soon as filled was drawn out and deposited 
under the straw. But after hard work, and digging with 
finger nails, knives, and chisels, a number of feet, the work 
ing party found themselves stopped by piles driven in the 
ground. These were at least a foot in diameter. But the}' 
were not discouraged. Penknives, or any other articles that 
would cut, were called for, and after chipping, chipping, 
chipping, for a long time, the piles were severed, and the 
tunnelers commenced again, after a time reaching the sewer. 

But here an nnexpected obstacle met their further pro- 
gress. The stench from the sewer and the flow of filthy 
water was so great that one of the party fainted, and was 
dragged out more dead than alive, a.nd the project in that 
direction had to be abandoned. The failure was communi- 
cated to a few others beside those who had first thought of 
escape, and then a party of seventeen, after viewing the 
premises and surroundings, concluded to tunnel under Carey 
street. On the opposite side of this street from the prison 
was a sort of carriage house or outhouse, and the project was 
to dig under the street, and emerge from under or near the 
house. There was a high fence around it, and the guard was 
outside of this fence. The prisoners then commenced to dig 
at the other side of the chimney, and after a few handfuls of 
dirt had been removed they found themselves stopped by a 
stone wall, which proved afterward to be three feet thick. 
The party were by no means daunted, and with pocket-knives 
and penknives they commenced operations upon the stone 
and mortar. 

After nineteen days and nights at hard work they again 
struck the earth beyond the wall, and pushed their work for- 
ward. Here, too (after they got some distance under ground), 
the friendly spittoon was brought into requisition, and the 



358 



HOW THE PRISONERS ESCAPED. 



dirt was hauled out in small quantities. After digging for 
some days the question arose whether they had not reached 
the point aimed at; and in order, if possible, to test the 
matter, Captain Gallagher, of the second Ohio regiment, pre- 
tended that he had a box in the carriage house over the way. 
and desired to search it out. This carriage-house, it is proper 
to state, was used as a receptacle for boxes and goods sent to 
the prisoners from the north, and the recipients were often 
allowed to go, under guard, across the street to secure their 
property. Captain Gallagher was allowed permission to go 
there, and, as he walked across, under guard, he, as well as 
he could, paced off the distance, and concluded that the street 
was about fifty feet wide. 

On the 6th or 7th of February, the working party supposed 
they had gone a sufficient distance, and commenced to dig 
upward. When near the surface, they heard the rebel guards 
talking above them, and discovered they were two or three 
feet yet outside the fence. 

The displacing of a stone made considerable noise, and 
one of the sentinels called to his comrade and asked him 
what the noise meant. The guards, after listening a few 
minutes, concluded that nothing was wrong, and returned to 
their beats. The hole was stopped up by inserting into the 
crevice a pair of old pantaloons, filled with straw, and bol- 
stering the whole up with boards, which they secured from 
the floors, etc., of the prison. The tunnel was then con- 
tinued some six or seven feet more, and when the working 
party supposed they were about ready to emerge to daylight, 
others in the prison were informed that there was a way now 
open for escape. One hundred and nine of the prisoners 
decided to make the attempt to get away. Others refused, 
fearing the consequences if they were recaptured. 



HOW THE PRISONERS ESCAPED. 



359 



At half-past eight o'clock, on the evening of the 9 th, the 
prisoners started out, Colonel Kose, of New York, leading 
the van. Before starting, the prisoners had divided them- 
selves into squads of two, three, and four, and each squad 
was to take a different route, and after they were out were 
to push for the Union lines as fast as possible. It was the 
understanding that the working party were to have an hour's 
start of the other prisoners, and, consequently, the rope- 
ladder in the cellar was drawn out. Before the expiration 
of the hour, however, the other prisoners became impatient, 
and were let down through the chimney successfully into 
the cellar. 

The aperture was so narrow that but one man could get 
through at a time, and each squad carried with them provi 
sions in a haversack. At midnight a false alarm was 
created, and the prisoners made considerable noise in their 
quarters. Providentially, however, the guard suspected 
nothing wrong, and in a few moments the exodus was again 
commenced. Colonel Kendrick and his companions looked 
with some trepidation upon the movements of the fugitives, 
as some of them, exercising but little discretion, moved 
boldly out of the enclosure into the glare of the gaslight. 
Many of them were, however, in citizen's dress, and as all 
the rebel guards wore the United States uniform, but little 
suspicion could be excited, even if the fugitives had been 
accosted by a guard. 

Between one and two o'clock the lamps were extinguished 
in the streets, and then the exit was more safely accom- 
plished. There were many officers who desired to leave, 
who were so weak and feeble that they were dragged through 
the tunnel by mere force, and carried to places of security, 
until such time as they would be able to move on their 



360 



HOW THE PRISONERS ESCAPED. 



journey. At half-past two o'clock, Captain Joyce, Colonel 
Kendrick, and Lieutenant Bradford, passed out in the order 
in which they are named, and as Colonel Kendrick emerged 
from the hole he heard the guards within a few feet of him 
sing out : " Post No. 7, half-past two in the morning, and all 
is well." Lieutenant Bradford was intrusted with the pro- 
visions of this squad, and in getting through was obliged to 
leave his haversack behind him, as he could not get through 
with it upon him. 

Once out they 'proceeded up the street, keeping in the 
shade of the buildings, and passed easwardly through the 
city. 

A description of the route pursued by this party, and of 
the tribulation through which they passed, will give some 
icjea of the rough time they all had of it. Colonel Kendrick 
had, before leaving the prison, mapped out his course, and 
concluded that the best route to take was the one toward 
Norfolk or Fortress Monroe, as there were fewer rebel pick- 
ets in that direction. They, therefore, kept the York river 
railroad to the left, and moved toward the Chickahominy 
river. They passed through Boar Swamp, and crossed the 
road leading to Bottom Bridge. Sometimes they waded 
through mud and water almost up to their necks, and kept 
the Bottom Bridge road to their left, although at times they 
could see and hear the cars travelling over the York river 
road. 

While passing through the swamp near the Chickahominy, 
Colonel Kendrick sprained his ankle and fell. Fortunate, 
too, was that fall for him and his party, for while he was 
lying there one of them chanced to look up, and saw in a 
direct line with them a swamp bridge, and in the dim outline 
they con Id perceive that parties with muskets were passing 



HOW THE PRISONERS ESCAPED. 



361 



over the bridge. They, therefore, moved some distance to 
the south, and after passing through more of the swamp, 
reached the Chickahominy about four miles below Bottom 
Bridge. Here now was a difficulty. The river was only 
twenty feet wide, but it was very deep, and the refugees 
were worn out and fatigued. Chancing, however, to look 
up, Lieutenant Bradford saw that two trees had fallen on 
either side of the river, and that their branches were inter 
locked. By crawling up one tree, and down the other, the 
fugitives reached the east bank of the Chickahominy. 

They subsequently learned from a friendly negro that, 
had they crossed the bridge they had seen, they would 
assuredly have been recaptured, for Captain Turner, the 
keeper of Libby prison, had been out and posted guards 
there, and in fact had alarmed the whole country, and got 
the people up as a vigilant committee to capture the escaped 
prisoners. 

After crossing over this natural bridge they laid down on 
the ground and slept until sunrise on the morning of the 
11th, when they continued on their way, keeping eastwardly 
as near as they could. Up to this time they had had nothing 
to eat, and were almost famished. About noon of the 11th 
they met several negroes, who gave them information as to 
the whereabouts of the rebel pickets, and furnished them 
with food. 

Acting under the advice of these friendly negroes, they 
remained quietly in the woods until darkness had set in, 
when they were furnished with a comfortable supper by the 
negroes, and after dark proceeded on their way, the negroes 
(who everywhere showed their friendship to the fugitives) 
having first directed them how to avoid the rebel pickets. 
That night they passed a camp of rebels, and could plainly 



362 



HOW THE PRISONERS ESCAPED. 



see the smoke and camp fires. But their wearied feet ga-\«e 
out, and they were compelled to stop and rest, having only 
marched five miles that day. 

They started again at daylight on the 13th, and after 
moving awhile through the woods they saw a negro woman 
working in a field and called her to them. From her they 
received directions and were told that the rebel pickets had 
been about there looking for the fugitives from Libby. Here 
they laid down again, and resumed their journey when dark- 
ness set in, and marched five miles, but halted till the morn- 
ing of the 14th, when the journey was resumed. 

At one point they met a negress in a field, and she told 
them that her mistress was a secesh woman, and that she had 
a son in the rebel army. The party, however, were exceed- 
ingly hungry, and they determined to secure some food. 
This they did by boldly approaching the house, and inform- 
ing the mistress that they were fugitives from Norfolk, who 
had been driven out by Butler; and the secesh sympathies 
of the woman were at once aroused, and she gave them of 
her substance, and started them on their way,, with directions 
how to avoid the Yankee soldiers, who occasionally scouted 
in that vicinity. This information was exceedingly valuable 
to the refugees, for by it they discovered the whereabouts 
of the Federal forces. 

"When about fifteen miles from Williamsburg the party 
came upon the main road and found the tracks of a large 
body of cavaly. A piece of paper found by Captain Jones 
satisfied him that they were Union cavalry; but his com- 
panions were suspicious, and avoided the road and moved 
forward. At the "Burnt Ordinary" (about ten miles from 
Williamsburg), they awaited the return of the cavalry that 
had moved up the road, from behind a fence corner, where 



GEN. POPE AND THE ASSISTANT SECRETARY. 363 



they were secreted, the fugitives saw the flag of the Thrion, 
supported by a squadron of cavalry, which proved to be a 
detachment of Colonel's Spear's eleventh Pennsylvania regi- 
ment, sent out for the purpose of picking up escaped prison 
ers. Colonel Kendrick says his feelings at seeing the old 
flag are indescribable. 

At all points along the route the fugitives describe their 
reception by the negroes as most enthusiastic, and there was 
no lack of white people who sympathized with them and 
helped them on their way. 

In their escape the officers were aided by citizens of Rich- 
mond ; not foreigners or the poor class only, but by natives 
and persons of wealth. They know their friends there, but 
very properly with old any mention of their names. Of 
those who got out of Libby prison there were a number of 
sick ones, who were cared for by Union people, and will 
eventually reach the Union lines through their aid. 



GENERAL POPE AND THE ASSISTANT 
SECRETARY OF WAR. 

A correspondent of the N". Y. Tribune says : — 
I heard, while at Pillow, an anecdote of General Pope— an 
officer of ability, but sometimes a very unpleasant man, with 
a pompous and hectoring manner — which will bear repetition 
While at his headquarters, the general was approached by a 
rather small, plain-looking, and entirely unassuming man, in 
citizen's attire, with the question : " Are you General Pope, 
sir?" 

" That is my name," was the answer, in rather a repelling 
tone. 



364 GEN. POPE AND THE ASSISTANT SECRETARY. 



"I would like to see you, then, on a matter of business." 
"Call on my adjutant, sir. He will arrange any business 
you may have." 

" But I wish to have a personal conversation with you." 
" See my adjutant," in an authoritative voice. 
" But—" 

" Did I not tell you to see my adjutant ? Trouble me no 
more, sir ;" and Pope was about walking away. 

"My name is Scott, general," quietly remarked the small, 
plain man. 

"Confound you ! What do I care," thundered Pope, in a 
rising passion, "if your name is Scott, or Jones, or Jenkins, 
or Snooks, for the matter of that ? See my adjutant, I tell 
you, fellow! Leave my presence!" 

"I am, " continued the quiet man, in his quiet way, "the 
Assistant Secretary of War, and — " 

What a revolution those simple words made in the gen- 
eral's appearance and manner ! 

His angry, haughty, domineering air was dispelled in a 
moment, and a flush of confusion passed over his altered 
face. 

" I beg your pardon, Mr. Scott, I had no idea whom I was 
addressing. Pray be seated ; I shall be happy to grant you 
an interview at any time." 

Possibly a very close observer might have seen a faint, 
half contemptuous smile on the Secretary's lips ; though he 
said nothing, but began to unfold his business without com- 
ment. 

After that unique interview, Pope and the Assistant 
Secretary were very frequently together, and I venture to 
say the latter had no reason subsequently to complaiD of the 
general's rudeness. 



MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBY. 



365 



MY CAPTUKE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBY. 

Captain W. W. Badger, Inspector-General of Cavalry 
in the Army of the Shenandoah, thus relates, in the United- 
States Service Magazine, the story of his capture by Mosby's 
guerrillas, and his escape from them: — 
. Belle, my favorite mare, neighed impatiently in front of 
my tent, just as the bright sunrise of early autumn was gild- 
ing the hill. The morning was cold and brilliant, and the 
first crisp of frost had just sufficiently stiffened the sod to 
make a brisk gallop agreeable to both rider and horse. 

The bold Shenandoah shook the icy wrinkles from its 
morning face, and rolled smoothly away before me into the 
gorgeous forest of crimson and gold below Front Royal. 

It is the day of the regular train, and a thousand army 
wagons are already rolling away from Sheridan's headquar- 
ters down the famous Valley Pike, to bring food and raiment 
to a shivering and hungry army. I sprang into the saddle, 
and Belle, in excellent spirits, evidently thinks she can throw 
dust in the eyes of Mosby or any other guerrilla who dares 
follow her track. It is nine miles to where the train is 
parked, and before I arrive there the last wagon has passed 
out of sight, and the picket gate of the army has been closed 
for an hour behind it. My orders are imperative to accom- 
pany this train, and military law allows of no discretion. 
With a single orderly and my colored servant, Greorge "Wash- 
ington, a contraband, commonly called Wash, to constantly 
remind him of the Christian virtue of cleanliness, I pass out 
into the guerrilla-infested country. 

It is but an hour's work to overtake the train, and 
mounted as I am, I feel great contempt for guerrillas, and 
inwardly defy any of them to catch me, as I give Belle the 



366 



MT CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBY. 



rein and dash on at a sweeping gallop till I come in sight of 
the train, a mile ahead, winding its way through the little 
village of Newtown, nine miles south of Winchester. 

"Mosby be hanged I" I said to myself, as I slacken speed 
and pass leisurely through the town, noticing the pretty 
women, who, for some reason, appear in unusual force at the 
doors and windows, and one or two of whom wave their 
handkerchiefs in a significant manner, which, however, 1 fail 
to understand, and ride heedlessly forward. Who would 
suppose a pretty woman waving a handkerchief to be a sign 
of danger ? 

Evidently no one but a cynic or a crusty old bachelor, and, 
as 1 am neither, I failed to interpret the well-meant warning. 

As I had nearly passed the town, I overtook a small party, 
appareDtly of the rear-guard of the train, who were lighting 
their pipes and buying cakes and apples at a small grocery 
on the right of the pike, and who seemed to be in charge of a 
non-commissioned officer. 

" Good-morning, sergeant," I said, in answer to his salute. 
" You had better close up at once. The train is getting well 
ahead, and this is the favorite beat of Mosby." 

" All right, sir," he replied, with a smile of peculiar intelli- 
gence, and nodding to his men they mounted at once and 
closed in behind me, while, quite to my surprise, I noticed 
three more of the party, whom I had not before seen, in front 
of me. 

An instinct of danger at once possessed me. I saw nothing 
to justify it, but I felt a presence of evil which I could not 
shake off. The men were in Union blue complete, and wore 
in their caps the well known Greek cross, which distinguishes 
the gallant sixth corps. They were young, intelligent, cleanly, 
and good looking soldiers, armed with revolvers and Spencer's 
repeating carbine. 



MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBT. 367 



I noticed the absence of sabres, but the presence of the 
Spencer, which is a comparatively new arm in our service, 
reassured me, as I thought it impossible for the enemy to be, 
as yet, possessed of them. 

We galloped on merrily, and just as I was ready to laugh at 
my own fears, Wash, who had been riding behind me, and 
had heard some remark made by the soldiers, brushed up 
to my side, and whispered through his teeth, chattering with 
fear, " Massa, secesh sure ! Eun like de debbel 1" 

I turned to look back at these words, and saw six car- 
bines levelled at me at twenty paces' distance ; and the ser- 
geant, who had watched every motion of the negro, came 
riding toward me with his revolver drawn, and the sharp 
command, " Halt — surrender !" 

We had reached a low place where the Opequan creek 
crosses the pike a mile from Newtown. The train was not a 
quarter of a mile ahead, but out of sight for the moment over 
the next ridge. High stone walls lined the pike on either 
side, and a narrow bridge across the stream in front of me 
was already occupied by the three rascals who had acted as 
advance-guard, who now coolly turned round and presented 
carbines also from their point of view. 

I remembered the military maxim, a mounted man should 
never surrender until his horse is disabled, and hesitated an 
instant, considering what to do, and quite in doubt whether I 
was myself, or some other fellow whom I had read of as 
captured and hung by guerrillas ; but at the repetition of the 
sharp command, " Surrender," with the addition of the polite 

words, "you d d Yankee son of a b h," aided by the 

somewhat disagreeable presence of the revolver immediately 
in my face, I concluded I was undoubtedly the other fellow 
and surrendered accordingly. 



368 MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBY. 



My sword and revolver were taken at once by the sergeant, 
who proved to be Lieutenant C. F. Whiting, of Clark County, 
Virginia, in disguise, and who remarked, laughing, as he 
took them, " We closed up, captain, as you directed ; as this 
is a favorite beat of Mosby 's, I hope our drill was satisfac- 
tory." 

u All right, sergeant," I replied. " Every dog has his day, 
and yours happens to come now. You have sneaked upon 
me in a cowardly way, disguised as a spy, and possibly my 
turn may come to-morrow." 

" Your turn to be hung," he replied. And then, as we 
hurried along a wood path down the Opequan, he told me 
with great satisfaction, how they had lain in ambush in 
expectation of catching some stragglers from our train, and 
seeing me coming, had reached the little grocery from the 
woods behind it, just in time to appear as belonging to our 
party ; that Mosby was three miles back, with a hundred 
men, and I should soon have the honor of seeing him in 
person. 

They were a jolly, good-natured set of fellows, who evi- 
dently thought they had done a big thing ; and as I scanned 
them more closely, the only distinction in appearance 
between them and our equal soldiers which I could discover, 
was that the Greek cross on their caps was embroidered in 
yellow worsted. 

I was offered no further indignity or insult, and was 
allowed to ride my own horse, for the present, though I was 
quietly informed on the way, that Mosby had threatened to 
hang the first officer he should catch, in retaliation for his 
men who had been hung as guerrillas at Front Eoyal, and 
that I would undoubtedly be the unfortunate individual. 

With this consoling information I was ushered into the 



MY CAPTUKE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBY. 369 



presence of the great modern highwayman, John S. Mosby, 
then lieutenant-colonel C. S. A. 

He stood a little apart from his men, by the side of a 
splendid gray horse, with his right hand grasping the bridle- 
rein, the forearm resting on the pommel of his saddle, his 
left arm akimbo, and his right foot thrown across the left 
ankle and resting on its toe. He is a slight, medium-sized 
man, sharp of feature, quick of sight, lithe of limb, with a 
bronzed face of the color and tension of whip-cord ; his hair 
a yellow-brown, with full but light beard, and mustache of 
the same. A straight Grecian nose, firm-set expressive 
mouth, large ears, deep -gray eyes, high forehead, large well- 
shaped head, and his whole expression denoting hard services, 
energy, and love of whiskey. 

He wore top-boots, and a civilian's overcoat — black, lined 
with red — and beneath it the complete gray uniform of a Con- 
federate lieutenant-colonel, with its two stars on the sides of 
the standing collar, and the whole surmounted by the inev- 
itable slouched hat of the southern race. His men were 
about half in blue and half in butternut. 

He scarcely noticed me as I approached, but fixed his gaze 
on the noble animal I rode, as evidently the more valuable 
prize of the two. As I dismounted, he said to his servant : 
"Dick, take that horse;" and I knew the time had come 
when I must part with my beautiful Belle, whom I had rode 
nearly three years, through many a bloody field and hair's- 
breadth escape, and who loved me with an almost human 
love. Twice during the last three miles, as I came to a space 
of open country, had I resolved to dash away and trust to 
her nimble feet to distance their deadly rifles— and twice 
the sweet faces of home had appeared to scare me back to 
propriety. 



370 



MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBT. 



All what wiK a man not endure for the sweet faces of 
home ? Beware of tender ties, you who aspire to deeds of 
desperate daring ! For, although ennobling and inspiring to 
all that is duty, you will be either more or less than man if 
they fail to compel you to prudence wherever there is a 
choice of action left. I could not refrain from throwing my 
arms around Belle's neck, and tenderly caressing her for the 
last time before she w^s led away. 

The lieutenant ventured to protest against Mosby's appro- 
priating the mare to himself, without an apportionment and 
division of her value, in accordance with the rules of the 
gang ; but he was promptly silenced, and ordered to content 
himself with his choice of the other two horses he had 
captured — which he immediately did by taking both of them. 
While this colloquy was passing, Mosby was quietly examin- 
ing my papers, which had been taken from my pocket on my 
arrival ; and presently, looking up with a peculiar gleam of 
satisfaction on his face, he said : 

" Oh, Captain B ! inspector-general of 's cavalry ? 

Good-morning, captain — glad to see you, sir ! Indeed, there 
is but one man I would prefer to see this morning to your- 
self, and that is your commander. Were you present, sir, 
the other day, at the hanging of eight of my men as guerrillas 
at Front Eoyal ?" 

This question pierced me like a sword, as I really had 
been present at the terrible scene he mentioned. And 
although I had used my full influence, even to incurring the 
charge of timidity, in attempting to save the lives of the 
wretched men, believing that retaliation would be the only 
result, I could not show that fact, and doubted if it would 
avail me aught if I could. 

I therefore answered him firmly : " I was present, sir, and 



MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBT. 371 



like you, have only to regret that it was not the commander, 
instead of his unfortunate men." 

This answer seemed to please Mosby, for he apparently 
expected a denial. He assumed a grim smile, and directed 
Lieutenant Whiting to search me. My gold hunting watch 
and chain, several rings, a set of shirt studs and buttons, 
some coins, a Masonic pin, and about three hundred dollars 
in greenbacks, with some letters and pictures of the dear 
ores at home, and a small pocket Bible, were taken. 

A board of officers was assembled to appraise their value, 
also that of my clothing, and to determine the ownership of 
each of the articles — the rules of the gang requiring that all 
captures should be thus disposed of, or sold, and their value 
distributed proportionately among the captors. 

My boots were appraised at six hundred and fifty dollars, 
in Confederate money ; my watch at three thousand ; and the 
other articles in the same proportion, including my poor old 
servant "Wash, who was put up and raffled for at two thousand 
dollars. Wash was very indignant that he should be thought 
worth only two thousand dollars Confederate money, and 
informed them that he considered himself quite unappre- 
ciable; and that, among other accomplishments, he could 
make the best milk punch of any man in the Confederacy — 
and, if they had the materials, he would like to try a little 
of it now. This hit at the poverty of their resources raised 
a laugh ; and Mosby's man, Dick, to show that they had the 
materials, offered Wash a drink — which, quite to my sur 
prise, and doutless to that of his own stomach also, he stub 
bornly refused. On asking him privately why he refused, 
he replied : " You know, massa, too much freeder breeds 
despise !" 

When all this was concluded, Mosby took me one side, 



372 MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBT. 

and returned to me the Bible, letters, and pictures, and tLa 
Masonic pin, saying, quietly, as lie did so, alluding to the 
latter with a significant sign : — 

" You may as well keep this ; it may be of use to you 
somewhere. Some of my men pay some attention to that 
sort of thing. Your people greatly err in thinking us merely 
guerrillas. Every man of mine is a duly enlisted soldier, 
and detailed to my command from various Confederate regi- 
ments. They are merely picked men, selected from the 
whole army for their intelligence and courage. We plunder 
the enemy, as the rules of war clearly allow. To the victors 
belong the spoils, has been a maxim of war in all ages. I 
can hang two for one all the year round, if your men insist 
upon it ; but I hope soon to have a better understanding. I 
yesterday executed eight of your poor fellows on the valley 
pike, your highway of travel, in retaliation for my men 
hung at Front Eoyal ; and I have to-day written to General 
Sheridan, informing him of it, and proposing a cessation of 
such horrible work, which every true soldier cannot but 
abhor. I sincerely hope he will assent to it." 

I thanked him warmly for his kindness, as I took his 
offered hand with a grip known all the world over to the 
brethren of the mystic tie, and really began to think Mosby 
almost a gentleman and a soldier, although he had just 
robbed me in the most approved manner of modern high- 
waymen. 

The sun was now* approaching the meridian, and imme- 
diate preparations were made for the long road to Eichmond 
and the Libby. A guard of fifteen men, in command of 
Lieutenant Whiting, was detailed as our escort ; and accom- 
panied by Mosby himself, we started directly across the 
country, regardless of roads, in an easterly direction, toward 



M5T CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBY. 373 



*he Shenandoah and the Blue Eidge. We were now in com- 
pany of nine more of our men, who had been taken at dif- 
ferent times, making eleven of our party in all, besides the 
indignant contraband, "Wash, whom it was also thought 
prudent to send to the rear for safe keeping. 

I used every effort to gain the acquaintance and confldenc 
of these men, and by assuming a jolly and reckless manner, 
I succeeded in drawing them out and satisfying myself that 
some of them could be depended on in any emergency. 1 
had determined to escape if even half an opportunity should 
present itself, and the boys were quick in understanding my 
purpose, and intimated their readiness to risk their livfes 
in the attempt. 

Two of them in particular — George W. McCauley, of 
AVestern Virginia, commonly known as Mack, and one 
Brown, of Blaser's scouts — afterward proved themselves he- 
roes of the truest metal. 

We journeyed rapidly, making light of our misfortunes, 
and cracking many a joke with our rebel guard, until we 
reached Howittsville, on the Shenandoah, nine miles below 
Front Eoyal, where we bivouacked for the night in an old 
school-house, sole relic left of a former civilization. It is 
an old, unpainted two-story building, with wooden blinds 
nailed shut, and seems to have been fitted ap by Mosby as a 
kind of way station, in which to camp with his stranger 
guests. Many a sad heart, more hopeless and broken than 
ours' has doubtless throbbed restless on its naked floors, 
with premonitions of the dreary Libby. All of the guard 
confirmed Mosby's statement as to the organization of his 
band and the execution of our men the day previous; and 
his letter to Sheridan in regard to it has since been pub- 
lished, and certainly speaks for itself of the business-like 
habits of its author. 



374 



MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBY. 



Our party of eleven were assigned to one side of the lower 
floor of the school-house, where we lay down side by side, 
with our heads to the wall, and our feet nearly touching the 
feet of the guard, who lay in the same manner, opposite to 
us, with their heads to the other wall, except three who 
formed a relief guard for the sentry's post at the door. 
Above the heads of the guard, along the wall, ran a low 
school desk,' on which each man of them stood his carbine 
and laid his revolver before disposing himself to sleep. .A 
fire before tne door dimly lighted the room, and the scene 
as they dropped gradually to sleep was warlike in the ex- 
treme, and made a Rembrandt picture on my memory which 
will never be effaced. 

I had taken care, on lying down, to place myself between 
McCauley and Brown, and at the moment the rebels began to 
snore and the sentry to nod over his pipe, we were in earn- 
est and deep conversation. McCauley proposed to unite 
our party and make a simultaneous rush for the carbines, 
and take our chances of stampeding the guard and making 
our escape ; but on passing the whisper quietly along our 
line, only three men were found willing to assent to it. As 
the odds were so largely against us, it was useless to urge 
the subject. 

The intrepid McCauley then proposed to go himself alone 
in the darkness among the sleeping rebels, and bring over 
to our party every revolver and every carbine before any 
alarm should be given, if we would only use the weapons 
when placed in our hands ; but again timidity prevailed, and 
I must confess that I myself hesitated before this hardy cou- 
rage, and refused to peril the brave boy's life in so rash a 
venture, as a single false step or the least alarm, in favor of 
which the chances were as a thousand to one, would have 
been to him, and probably to all of us, instant death. 



MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBY. 375 



I forbade the attempt, but could not help clasping the 
brave fellow to my heart, and kissing him like a brother 
for the noble heroism of which he was evidently made. He 
was a fair boy of but eighteen summers, with soft black eyes, 
and a rosy, round face, as smooth and delicate as a girl's, 
with a noble forehead and an unusually* intelligent counte- 
nance. I had picked him out at first sight as a hero, and 
every hour was increasing my admiration of him. He slept 
in my arms at last, as the long night wore away, till the 
morning broke dull and rainy, finding us exhausted and 
thoroughly wretched and despondent. 

The march began at an early hour, and our route ran 
directly up the Blue Eidge. We had emerged from the 
forest and ascended about one third the height of the moun- 
tain, when the full valley became visible, spread out like a 
map before us, showing plainly the lines of our army, its 
routes of supply, its foraging parties out, and my own camp 
at Front Eoyal, as distinctly as if we stood in one of its 
streets. We now struck a wood patn running southward and 
parallel with the ridge of the mountain, along which we 
travelled , for hours, with this wonderful panorama of forest 
and river, mountain and plain, before us in all the gorgeous 
beauty of the early autumn. 

'* This is a favorite promenade of mine," said Mosby. "I 
love to see your people sending out their almost daily raids 
after me. There comes one of them now almost toward us. 
If you please, we will step behind this point and see them 
pass. It may be the last sight you will have of your old 
friends for some time." 

The coolness of this speech enraged me, and yet I could 
not help admiring the quiet and unostentatious audacity 
which seemed to be the prominent characteristic of its 



376 



MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBY. 



author. I could hardly restrain an impulse to rush upon 

him and 

" Try this quarrel hilt to hilt," 

b it the important fact that I had not a hilt even, while he 
wore two revolvers, restrained me, and looking in the direc- 
tion he pointed, I distinctly saw a squadron of my own regi 
ment coming directly toward us on a road running under the 
foot of the mountain, and apparently on some foraging expe- 
dition down the valley. They passed within a half mile of 
us under the mountain, and Mosby stood with folded arms on 
a rock above them, the very picture of stoical pride and 
defiance, or, as Mack whispered : 

"Like patience on a monument smiling at grief." 

"We soon moved on, and before noon reached the road 
running through Manassas Gap, which place we found he'd 
by about one hundred of Mosby's men, who signalled him 
as he approached ; and here, much to my regret, the great 
chieftain left us, bidding me a kindly good-by, and informing 
me that my last hope of rescue or escape was now gone. 

We were hurried on through the gap and down the eastern 
slope of the mountain, and turning southward, in a few hours 
passed Chester (rap, finding it also occupied by Mosby's men 
in force, and we were only able to approach it after exchang- 
ing the proper signals. 

This gave me an idea of how Mosby conducts his raids so 
successfully, by leaving a garrison in each of the gaps behind 
him before he ventures far into the valley. These garrisons 
he can concentrate at any desired point by signals almost in 
an hour, and any of them can communicate with him from 
the mountain tops to any part of the valley, and either warn 
him of danger or direct him where to strike. If pursued, he 



MY CAPTUEE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBY. 2 7 7 

has but to retreat in such a direction as to draw his pursuers 
on to this reserve force, which he concentrates in some strong 
' position, or in ambush, at his pleasure, and develops with 
fresh horses just as his pursuers are exhausted with the long 
chase. He is thus enabled, with about five hundred picked 
men, to remain, as he has been for two years past, the terror 
of the valley. 

After passing Chester Grap, we descended into the valley and 
moved toward Sperryville, on the direct line to Eichmond, the 
last gate of hope seeming to close behind us as we left the 
mountains. Our guard is now reduced, as we are far within 
the Confederate lines, to Lieutenant "Whiting and three men, 
well mounted and doubly armed, and our party of eleven 
prisoners have seven horses to distribute among us as we 
please, so that four of us are constantly dismounted. There 
is also a pack-horse carrying our forage, rations, and some 
blankets. To the saddle of this pack-horse are strapped two 
Spencer carbines, muzzle downward, with their accoutre- 
ments complete, including two well filled cartridge boxes. 

1 called Mack's attention to this fact as soon as the ' guard 
was reduced, and he needed no second hint to comprehend 
its significance at once. He soon after dismounted, and when 
it came his turn again to mount, he secured, apparently by 
accident, the poorest and most broken down horse in the 
party, with which he appeared to find it very difficult to 
keep up, and which he actually- succeeded in some mysterious 
way in laming. 

He then dropped back to the lieutenant in charge, and 
modestly asked to exchange his lame horse for the pack- 
horse, and being particularly frank in his address, his request 
was at once granted, without a suspicion of its object, or a 
thought of the fatal carbines on the pack-saddle. I usecl 



378 MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBT. 



some little skill in diverting the attention of the lieutenant 
while the pack was readjusted ; and as the rain had now 
begun to fall freely, no one of the guard was particularly 
alert. 

I was presently gratified with the sight of Mack riding 
ahead on the pack-horse, with the two carbines still strapped 
to the saddle, but loosened and well concealed by his heavy 
poncho , which he had spread as protection from the rain. 

These carbines are seven-shooters, and load from the 
breech by simply drawing out from the hollow stock a spiral 
spring and dropping in the seven cartridges, one after the 
other, and then inserting the spring again behind them, 
which coils as it is pressed home, and by its elasticity forces 
the cartridges forward, one at a time, into the barrel, at the 
successive movements of the lock. 

I could see the movement of Mack's right arm by the 
shape into which it threw the poncho ; and while guiding his 
horse with his left, looking the other way and chatting 
glibly with the other boys, I saw him carefully draw the 
springs from those carbines with his right hand and hook 
them into the upper button-hole of his coat to support them, 
while he dropped in the cartridges, one after another, trot- 
ting his horse at the time to conceal the noise of their click, 
and finally forcing down the springs and looking around ar 
me with a look of the fiercest triumph and heroism I have 
ever beheld. 

I nodded approval, and fearing he would precipitate mat- 
ters, yet knowing that any instant might lead to discovery 
and be too late, I rode carelessly across the road to Brown, 
who was on foot, and dismounting, asked him to tighten my 
girth, during which operation I told him as quietly as possi- 
ble the position of affairs, and asked him to get up gradually 



MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBT. 379 



by the side of Mack, communicate with him, and at a signal 
from me to seize one of the carbines and do his duty as a 
soldier if he valued his liberty. 

Brown, though a plucky fellow, was of quite a different 
quality from Mack. He was terribly frightened, and trem- 
bled like a leaf, yet went immediately to his post, and I did 
not doubt would do his duty well. 

1 rode up again to the side of Lieutenant Whiting, and 
like an echo from the past came back to me my words of 
yesterday, "Possibly my turn may come to-morrow." I 
engaged him in conversation, and among other things spoke 
of the prospect of sudden death as one always present in our 
army life, and the tendency it had to either harden or ameli- 
orate the character according to the quality of the individual. 
He expressed the opinion which many hold that a brutal 
man is made more brutal by it, and a refined and cultivated 
man is softened and made more refined by it. 

I scanned the country closely for the chances of escape if 
we should succeed in gaining our libert}^ ; I knew that to fail 
or to be recaptured would be instant death, and the responsi- 
bility of risking the lives of the whole party, as well as my 
own, was oppressing me bitterly. I also had an instinctive 
horror of the shedding of blood, as it were, with my own 
hands, and the sweet faces of home were haunting me again, 
but this time, strange to say, urging me on, and apparently 
crying aloud for vengeance. 

We were on the immediate flank of Early's army. His 
cavalry was all around us. The road was thickly inhabited. 
It was almost night. We had passed a rebel picket but a 
mile back, and knew not how near another of their camps 
might be. The three rebel guards were riding in front of 
us and on our left flank, our party of prisoners was in the 



380 



MY CAFrURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBY. 



centre, and I was by the side of Lieutenant Whiting, who 
acted as rear-guard, when we jentered a small copse of willow 
which for a moment covered the road. 

The hour was propitious; Mack looked round impatiently; 
I wove the fatal signal, " ISTow's the time, boys," into a story 
of our charge at Winchester, which I was telling to distract 
attention, and at the moment of its utterance threw myself 
upon the lieutenant, grasping him around the arms and drag- 
ging him from his horse, in the hope of securing his revolver, 
capturing him, and compelling him to pilot us outside of the 
rebel line. 

At the word, Mack raised one of the loaded carbines, and 
in less time than I can write it, shot two of the guard in front 
of him, killing them instantly ; and then coolly turning in his 
saddle, and seeing me struggling in the road with the lieu- 
tenant, and the chances of obtaining the revolver apparently 
against me, he raised the carbine the third time, and as I 
strained the now desperate rebel to my breast, with his livid 
face over my left shoulder, he shot him as directly between 
the eyes as he could have done if firing at a target at ten 
paces' distance. The bullet went crashing through his skull, 
the hot blood spirted from his mouth and nostrils into my 
face, his hold relaxed, and his ghastly corpse fell from my 
arms, leaving an impression of horror and soul-sickness 
which can never be effaced. 

I turned around in alarm at our now desperate situation, 
and saw Mack quietly smiling at me, with the remark : 

" Golly, cap ! I could have killed five or six more of them 
\ as well as not. This is a bully carbine ; I think I will take 
it home with me." 

Brown had not accomplished so much. He had seized the 
second carbine at the word, and fired at the third guard on 



MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBT. 381 



our flank ; but his aim was shaky, and he had only wounded 
his man in the side, and allowed him to escape to the front, 
where he was now seen half a mile away, at full speed, and 
firing his pistols to alarm the country. 

Our position was now perilous in the extreme ; not a man 
of us knew the country, except its most general outlines. 
The rebel camps could not be far away; darkness was inter- 
vening ; the whole country would be alarmed in an hour ; 
and I doubted not that before sundown even bloodhounds 
would be on our track. One half of our party had already 
scattered, panic-stricken, at the first alarm, and, every man 
for himself, were scouring the country in every direction. 

But five remained, including the faithful Wash, who im- 
mediately shows his practical qualities by searching the 
bodies of the slain, and recovering therefrom among, other 
things, my gold hunting watch from the person of Lieuten- 
ant Whiting, and over eleven hundred dollars in greenbacks, 
the proceeds, doubtless, of their various robberies of our men 

" Not quite 'nuff," said Wash, showing his ivories from ear 
to ear. "Dey valley dis nigger at two tousand dollars — I 
think I ought ter git de money." 

We instantly mounted the best horses, and, well armed 
with carbines and revolvers, struck directly for the mountain 
on our right; but knowing that would be the first place 
where we should be sought for, we soon changed our direc- 
tion to the south, and rode for hours directly into the enemy's 
country as fast as we could ride, and before complete dark- 
ness intervened, we had -made thirty miles from the place of 
our escape; and then, turning sharp up the mountain, we 
pushed our exhausted horses as far as they could climb ; and 
then abandoning them, we toiled on, on foot, all night, to the 
very summit of the Blue Eidge, whence we could see the 



382 MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBY. 



rebel camp fires, and view their entire lines and position just 
as daylight was breaking over the valley. 

We broke down twigs from several trees in line to deter- 
mine the points of compass and the direction of the rebel 
forces and pickets after it should be light, and then crawled 
into a thicket to rest our exhausted frames and await the 
return of friendly darkess in which to continue our flight. 

The length of this weary day, and the terrible pangs of 
hunger and thirst which we suffered on this barren mountain, 
pertain to the more common experience of a soldier's life, and 
I need not describe them here. 

Neither will I narrate, in detail, how some of our party 
who scattered arrived in camp before us, and how one feeble 
old man was recaptured and killed, nor our hopeless despair 
as day after day we saw the mountain alive with rebel scouts 
sent out for > our capture, and at night blazing with their 
picket fires ; and how we even ate a poor little dog which 
had followed our fortunes to his untimely end, and were think- 
ing seriously of eating the negro Wash, when he, to save 
himself from so unsavory a fate, ventured down in the dark- 
ness to a cornfield, and brought us up three ears of corn 
apiece, which we ate voraciously ; and how we had to go 
still farther south and abandon the mountain altogether, to 
avoid the scouts and pickets ; and how we finally struck the 
Shenandoah, twenty miles to the rear of Early's army, and 
there built a raft and floated by night forty miles down that 
memorable stream, through his crafty pickets, and thereafter 
passed for rebel scouts, earnestly " looking for Yanks" until 
we found them, and the glorious old flag once more wel- 
comed us to Union and liberty. 

These things the writer expects to tell, by the blessing of 
God, to the next generation, with his great-gsandchildren 
on his knee. 



THE BATTLE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 



883 



THE BATTLE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 

BY GEO. H. BOKER. 

" Give me but two brigades," said Hooker, frowning at fortified 
Lookout, 

" And I'll engage to sweep yon mountain clear of that mocking 
rebel rout !" 

At early morning came an order that set the general's face 
aglow : 

"Now," said he to his staff, "draw out my soldiers. Grant 
says that I may go !" 

Hither and thither dash'd each eager colonel to join his regi- 
ment, 

While a low rumor of the daring purpose ran on from tent to 
tent ; 

For the long-roll was sounding in the valley, and the keen 
trumpet's bray, 

And the wild laughter of the swarthy veterans, who cried " We 
fight to-day !" 

The solid tramp of infantry, the rumble of the great jolting 
gun, 

The sharp, clear order, and the fierce steeds neighing, " Why's 

not the fight begun V — 
All these plain harbingers of sudden conflict broke on the 

startled ear ; 

And, last, arose a sound that made your blood leap, — the ring- 
ing battle-cheer. 

The lower works were carried at one onset. Like a vast roar- 
ing sea 

Of steel and fii e, our soldiers from the trenches swept but the 
enemy ; 



384 THE BATTLE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 

And we could see the gray-coats swarming up from the moun- 
tain's leafy base, 

To join their comrades in the higher fastness, — for life or death 
the race ! 

Then our long line went winding round the mountain, in a 

huge serpent track, 
And the slant sun upon it flash'd and glimmer'd, as on a 

dragon's back. 

Higher and higher the column's head push'd onward, ere the 

rear moved a man ; 
And soon the skirmish-lines their straggling volleys and single 

shots began. 

Then the bald head of Lookout flamed and bellow'd, and all 

its batteries woke, 
And down the mountain pour'd the bomb-shells, puffing into 

our eyes their smoke ; 
And balls and grape-shot rain'd upon our column, that bore 

the angry shower 
As if it were no more than that soft dropping which scarcely 

stirs a flower. 

Oh, glorious courage that inspires the hero, and runs through 
all his men ! 

The heart that fail'd beside the Rappahannock, it was itself 

again ! 

The star that circumstance and jealous faction shrouded in 
envious night 

Here shone with all the splendor of its nature, and with a free' 
light 1 

Hark ! hark ! there goes the well-known crashing volleys, the 

long continued roar, 
That swells and falls, but never ceases wholly, until the fight 

is o'er. 



THE BATTLE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 385 



Up toward the crystal gates of heaven ascending, the mortal 
tempest beat, 

As if they sought to try their cause together before God's very 
feet! 

We saw our troops had gain'd a footing almost beneath the 
topmost ledge, 

And back and forth the rival lines went surging upon the 
dizzy edge. 

Sometimes we saw our men fall backward slowly, and groan 'd 
in our despair ; 

Or cheer'd when now and then a stricken rebel plunged out in 
open air, 

Down, down, a thousand empty fathoms droppiug, his God 
alone knows where ! 

At eve, thick haze upon the mountain gather'd, with rising 

smoke stain'd black, 
And not a glimpse of the contending armies shone through the 

swirling rack. 

Night fell o'er all ; but still they flash'd their lightnings and 

roll'd their thunders loud, 
Though no man knew upon what side was going that battle in 

the cloud. 

Night ! what a night ! — of anxious thought and wonder ; but 

still no tidings came 
From the bare summit of the trembling mountain, still wrapp'd 

in mist and flame. 
But toward the sleepless dawn, stillness, more dreadful than the 

fierce sound of war, 
Settled o'er Nature, as if she stood breathless before the morn 

ing star, 
25 



386 THE BATTLE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 

As the sun rose, dense clouds of smoky vapor boil'd from the 
valley's deeps, 

Dragging their torn and ragged edges slowly up through the 

tree-clad steeps, 
And rose and rose, till Lookout, like a vision, above us grandly 

stood, 

And over his black crags and storm-blanch'd headlands burst 
the warm, golden flood. 

Thousands of eyes were fix'd upon the mountain, and thousands 

held their breath, 
And the vast army, in the valley watching, seem'd touched 

with sudden death. 
High o'er us soar'd great Lookout, robed in purple, a glory on 

his face, 

A human meaning in his hard, calm features, beneath that 
heavenly grace. 

Out on a crag walk'd something, — What ? an eagle, that treads 

yon giddy height ? 
Surely no man ! But still he clamber'd forward into the full, 

rich light ; 

Then up he started, with a sudden motion, and from the blazing 
crag 

Flung to the morning breeze and sunny radiance the dear old 
starry flag ! 

Ah ! then what follow'd ? Scarr'd and war-worn soldiers, like 

girls, flush'd through their tan, 
And down the thousand wrinkles of the battles a thousand 

tear-drops ran ; 

Men seized each other in return'd embraces, and soobed for 
very love ; 

A spirit which made all that moment brothers seem'd falling 
from above. 



THE SECRET SERVICE. 



387 



And as we gazed, around the mountain's summit our glittering 
files appear'd ; 

Into the rebel works we saw them marching; and we, — we 

cheer'd, we cheer'd ! 
And they above waved all their flags before us, and join'd our 

frantic shout, 

Standing, like demigods, in light and triumph, upon their own 
Lookout ! 



THE SECEET SERVICE. 

''General Orde-rs, No. — . 

" Captain Cartes, — th Indiana volunteers, is hereby re- 
lieved of his command indefinitely, and will report at these 
headquarters immediately. 

" By order of Major-General Eosecrans. 

" Lieut.-Col. C. Goddard, A. A. G. 

" (Current Series.)" 

The above order was read upon dress parade to the gallant 
old — th, in January, 1863. The cotton fields and cedar 
thickets of " Stone river" were as yet scarcely dry from the 
loyal blood which had there been given up to freedom's cause. 
The regiment was struck dumb, so to speak, and the captain 
most of all. What could such an order mean ? Surely, none 
deserved censure less than Captain Carter. He was the idol 
of the regiment — a perfect specimen of manly strength ; bold 
and fearless in battle, perfect master of the " sword" and 
" gloves," kind and gentle-hearted, always found upon the 
side of the weak. He had been frequently spoken of by his 
superiors for his gallantry. These thoughts passed through 
the minds of some after this order was read, but none could 



388 



THE SECRET SERVICE. 



give a sufficient reason why he should be thus relieved; fc>r, 
said they, does not the order imply disgrace? But these 
mutter in gs were not heard at headquarters, and were of no 
avail. The captain retired to his tent, relieved himself of 
his accoutrements, called his servant, Tom, and set out for 
headquarters, with none but his sable companion. 

General Eosecrans was quartered in Judge Eeady's house, 
and had a private suite of rooms on the second floor, with 
windows opening upon a veranda. He was sitting before a 
bright fire on the evening our story opens, in undress uni- 
form, with nothing but the buttons to betoken rank. An 
orderly entered and announced Captain Carter. The general 
arose quickly, and advanced to meet him, with that easy, 
smiling look, that put the captain's fears at rest. The gene- 
ral took him by the hand, while his countenance assumed a 
more thoughful look, or rather settled in repose, and said : — 

" This is Captain Carter, of the — th Indiana ?" 

" It is, sir," replied the captain. 

" You received a peremptory order this evening to report 
forthwith." 

" I did, sir, and have done so." 

" Yes, yes ; take a seat, captain. I am in want of a man 
of some experience, captain, who has not only a ' hand to do 
and a heart to dare,' but also has judgment to guide and 
direct both. ^ General Thomas, after quietly looking through 
his command, has fixed on you; and I have such confidence 
in the ' grizzled old hero' that I have summoned you here 
for secret service. Are you willing to undertake it, with 
all its risks ?" 

" Any thingj general, for our country's good." 

" Yery well, sir ; you will remain here to-night. Any of 
your effects you may need, send for by the orderly at the 



THE SECRET SERVICE. 



389 



door. During the night I will inform yon what your duties 
will be." 

General Bragg's headquarters were at Tullahoma. The 
two armies were lying in a semi-circle, the rebel right resting 
on the Cumberland at Hartsville, above Nashville, their left 
resting at the " shoals" below. 

General Yan Dorn commanded the left, with headquarters 
at Spring Hill. Our right rested at Franklin, which is 
nearly on a direct line between Spring Hill and Nashville. 
This much by way of explanation. 

One morning, in February, 1863, two persons were making 
their way on horseback from Shelbyville to Spring Hill. 
The first of these was dressed in Quaker garb, and bestrode 
a light- built, dapple-bay stallion, whose small, sinewy limbs, 
broad chest, and open nostrils betokened both speed and 
bottom. Horse and rider were ill-matched, but seemed to 
have a perfect understanding. 

The other person was a negro, dressed like his master, 
broad brim, white neck-tie, and all, mounted on a stout 
roadster. They were fast approaching a vidette post; were 
shortly halted by a cavalryman; they drew rein and dis- 
mounted. 

" Is thee a man of war ?" asked the Quaker. 

"Don't know; reckon tho', I mought be. But what's 
your business, Quaker?" 

"Does thee know a Mr. Yan Dorn about here?" 

" Well, I reckon I does ; but he'll mister ye if you call 
him that." 

H Well, I have business with him, and I desire admittance 
hXo thy camps." 

" All right, old fellow ; wait till I call the corporal." 
General Yan Dorn was examining some maps and charts. 



390 



THE SECRET SERVICE. 



when an orderly entered and announced that a Quaker 
desired to see him. 

" Admit him," said the general. 

" Is thee Mr. Yan Dorn, whom carnal men call general ?" 

" What is your business with me, sir?" asked the general, 
without answering the question. 

" I am sent, friend Yan Dorn, by my society, to administer 
comforts and consolation to these men of war, and would ask 
permission to bring such things as they may need or my 
means may supply." 

" Have you any recommendations ?" 

"Yes, verily;" and the Quaker produced a bundle of 
papers, and commenced assorting them out. " Here is one 
from friend Quackenbush, and here — " 

" Never mind," said the general, while the corner of his 
mouth commenced to jerk ; " here, Mr. " 

" Thurston," suggested the Quaker. 

" Mr. Thurston, here is a pass through the lines at will for 
such articles as you may see proper to bring. This is all, sir?" 

" May I ask, friend, how far it is to those ungodly men 
who are persecuting our people with fire and sword, whom 
the carnal men call the Yankees ?" 

"Yes, sir. About fourteen miles. See that you give 
them a w r ide berth, for they have a curious way of burning 
men of your persuasion." 

" Yes, verily will I ;" and with this the Quaker retired. 

"Queer character, that," remarked the general to himself; 
tl but it takes all kinds to make a world." 

The Quaker passed out among the camps, meeting a smile 
here, and a rough jest there ; but they seemed not to ruffle 
the placidity of his countenance, though the negro's eyes 
flashed, who followed a few steps in the rear. The Quaker 



THE SECRET SERVICE. 



391 



seemed to have a good supply of tracts and religious papers, 
which he scattered freely, with a word of gentle admonition 
to the card-players, and a hint of the world to come to all. 
He was particular in his inquiries for the sick, and even 
visited all the forts and fortifications, and made particular 
inquiries in and about them for the sick, writing a letter for 
one, furnishing a stamp to another ; so that at the close of 
the day he had visited all, and made a memorandum of what 
was needed, and was preparing to leave camp when a lieuten- 
ant accosted him with, "I say, stranger, haven't we met 
before?" 

" Kay, verily," replied the Quaker, " I go not about where 
carnal men do battle." 

u No ! Well, I must have seen you at some place, but I 
don't recollect where. Likely I'm mistaken." 

" Yery like, friend ; good day to you." 

" Massa, did ye see dat debbil's eyes brighten up toward 
de last ? Tells ye, sure, we'd better be trablin'." 

"Yes, Sam, I saw it, and my recollection is better tLaD 
his, for I took him prisoner at Stone river, though he escaped 
soon after. We will pass out as soon as possible." 

Not long after, the Quaker and his colored companion 
were galloping over the smooth pike. As they approached 
a house, they slackened their speed, but when out of sight, 
they again increased it. Thus they pushed on till after dark, 
when they came to a by-road, into which they rode some 
miles, and finally drew rein at a little log-cabin, to which, 
after reconnoitering a little, the negro advanced, and knocked, 
and a voice from the inside bade him enter, which he did, 
followed by his master. 

That night a dispatch went to General Bragg, which read : — 

" Look out for a Quaker, followed by a nigger. He is a 
spy. Arrest him. ■ General Yan Dorn." 



392 



THE SECRET SERVICE . 



The next day a negro rode into Murfreesboro', and passed 
on to General Eosecrans' headquarters, and presenting a pass, 
was admitted to his private apartments, and handed the 
general a paper which read: — "2 overcoats and 6 hats, 37 
shirts, 3200 tracts, 2000 for the unconverted at Spring Hill." 

General Eosecrans was eagerly looking over the documen 
when General Thomas was announced. The latter was cor- 
dially met by General Eosecrans, who immediately handed 
him the paper he had just received. 

" This is all cipher to me, general," said General Thomas. 

"I suppose so," said the former, who had been writing. 
" Well, here is something more intelligible : — - Two forts of 
six guns each; thirty-seven additional guns; three thousand 
two hundred troops, two thousand of which are cavalry, at 
Spring Hill.' " 

" Humph ! Some of Captain Carter's ingenuity," said 
General Thomas. 

" Yes, he is doing his work nobly, so far. I only hope no 
harm may come to him." 

" Well, general," said Thomas, " Colonel B , of the 

— th Indiana, was asking me to-day why the captain was 
relieved of his command ; of course I knew nothing about it." 

"That was right," said Eosecrans; the effectiveness of the 
'secret service' would be greatly impaired by having the 
names of those engaged in it made known. I enjoined the 
utmost secrecy upon the captain, and kept him here that 
night that he might not be questioned too closely by his 
comrades. We will hear from him by ten o'clock to-morrow." 

" Where do you reside ?" asked General Bragg. 

" I live near Brandyville, general, and came down to see 
if something can't be done to keep these infernal Yankees 
from our section. They were down there yesterday, and 



THE SECRET SERVICE. 393 

took off over two thousand bushels of corn, and nearly all 
the wheat in the country." 

The speaker was a middle-aged man of rather good fea- 
tures, but his countenance betokened the too free use of 
Confederate whiskey. 

" What did you say your name was, colonel ?" 

" Ashcroft, sir." 

" Yes, yes, I have heard of your family. You have done 
nobly for our cause, from report." 

" We have tried to do our duty, general, and what little I 
have left you are welcome to, but I don't want the Yankees 
to get it. I sent down, by General Wheeler's command, the 
other day, a hundred bushels of wheat as a gift." 

" I wish we had more like you," said Bragg. " Let me fill 
your glass again, colonel. I wish I had something better to 
offer you." 

*' Permit me, general, to send my portmanteau for a bottle 
of wine." 
" Yes, sah." 

" Eare vintage, this, general. It's one of a lot I got north 
before the war." 

'"Excellent," says Bragg. " I would like to have a supply. 
By the way, colonel, did you see any thing of a Quaker-like 
personage on the road this morning ?" 

" Biding a bay horse, with a nigger following ?" 

" The same." 

« Why, yes. He came to my plantation last night. 1 
insisted on his staying all night, but he was in a hurry, and 
could not stop." 

"He was a Yankee spy," said Bragg. 

* The devil ! and to think I gave the rascal his supper !" 

^ Well, well, never mind colonel we'll pick him up yet 



i 

394 THE SECRET SERVICE. 

I'm going to make a feint on the enemy's flanks to-morrow 
with my cavalry, and we'll probably get him. He has in- 
formation that would be valuable to the enemy. I look for 
a couple of officers back in a few days, that I sent up to 
Franklin to find out the enemy's strength. If they bring 
me a correct report, I'll match Kosecrans, with all his low 
cunning. Besides this, colonel, I'm looking for some Georgia 
and Alabama troops up shortly, and if the cowardly Dutch- 
man don't run, I'll make another Stone Eiver for him." 

"Good for you, general. Don't leave even one of the 
cussed mudsills on our soil. But it is getting late, and I 
must try and get some supplies before I go back. "Will you 
accommodate me with a pass ?" 

" Certainly, and here is a bill of protection for your person 
and property. No thanks ; good day to you." 

" Golly, Massa Cap'n, you's bin talkin' to de ole debbil 
hissef." 

"Hush! not so loud, Tom. I've got one more to visit 
and then we'll be off, and take a straight shoot up Hoover s 
Gap." 

"Cap'n, cap'n! dey's a regiment ob dese dirty rebels just 
started up de Manchester road, dat's going up from Hoober's 
Gap, for I heard de kernel say so " 

"All right, Tom ; we'll take the Shelbyville road, and run 
the risk of meeting Yan Dorn. Go out through the ' abatis,' 
the same way we came in with the horses, and I'll meet you 
in half an hour by that old house." 

"Missus, dey's a gentleman dat got a frow off his horse out 
here, and would like to stop awhile wid ye, if ye please, 
missus." 

"Very well; I'll send a boy out to help him in. Are you 
much hurt, sir ?" 



THE SECRET SERVICE. 



395 



u No, madam, I think not ; my horse got frightened at some 
object in the road, and threw me heavily on my right shoul- 
der. A night's rest, madam, will enable me to pursue my 
journey, I think." 

Our hero found, upon examination, that there were no 
bones broken, and yet the bruise was severe enough to make 
him covet a night's rest, in preference to passing it on the 
saddle. So, without more ado, he submitted to his hostess's 
desire to bathe the bruised shoulder, and prepare him a com- 
fortable bed by the fire. 

During the night he was awakened by the loud clatter of 
horses' hoofs, followed immediately by a loud " hilloa." 

During the conversation which occurred outside, he heard 
the name of Yan Dorn mentioned, and the thought that they 
might meet was any thing but comfortable to him just at 
that time; but he resolved to trust to luck, and if that failed, 
he would try what virtue there was in " right angles, hori- 
zontals," etc. Presently the door opened, and an officer 
entered, dressed in the height of Confederate style, — gilt 
buttons, gold lace, and all, — a glance at which showed that 
he bore the rank of lieutenant-general. The conversation 
that ensued informed our hero that he had the honor of 
occupying the same room with General Hardee. He had as 
yet feigned sleep. He heard the general ask the lady if she 
knew who he was, and her reply was, that she did not. Then 
followed the story of his getting thrown, and so on. He was 
anxious to establish his reputation with the general as a 
sound secesh, and a little ruse occurred to him, which he re- 
solved to practise even to the extent of making himself 
ridiculous, suddenly bawling out, as if asleep, — 

"Kun, Tom; the infernal Yankees are coming; put all 
the horses in the back pasture ; take away every nigger with 
you." 



396 



THE SECRET SERVICE. 



"'Ha ha!" laughed the general, "he's all right. I'll bet 
on, him. Bat you see, madam, there is a spy in our lines 
that we are anxious to catch, and he has, so far eluded us, 
and if we meet a stranger, we are anxious to find out 
his standing. I'm satisfied with this one, for a man will tell 
the truth when he's asleep." 

"Your supper's ready, sah." 

" And I'm ready for it," replied the general, and left the 
room. 

Oui hero moved, grunted, and finally turned over, and 
found his hostess still in the room, and behind her he saw 
Tom making motions for him to come out. 

The lady asked if he felt comfortable, had he slept well, etc., 
to all of which he replied in the affirmative ; upon which 
she left the room, and he followed soon after, and found Tcro 
waiting for him. 

" Massa, dese debbils has ' sprised' us, and we'd better be a 
leabin. I's got a ' nigh shoot' from de niggahs, dat we can 
cut across to Manchester and up fru de gap from heah." 

" All right, Tom ; where's the horses ?" 

" I'se got um, massa, out below here." 

" Here's for them, then, Tom ; come on quickly." 

It is needless to follow them further ; suffice it to say they 
reached our lines the following evening, and reported to 
General Eosecrans. 

The following order explains itself : — 

Special Field Okdeb, No. — . 

Capt. Carter ( — th Ind. Yols.) is hereby ordered to return to 
his command, and is recommended for promotion. By order 

W. S. Eosecrans. Major- Gen. 

Lieut- Col. C. Goddard, A. A. G. 



YOUNG HART, THE GUIDE. 



397 



YOUNG HAET, THE GUIDE. 

Eich Mountain is famous as the scene where the first 
decisive battle was fought in West Virginia between General 
McClellan and General Garnett. 

Eich Mountain Eange, as it is sometimes called, is in Ean- 
dolph county, sixty miles from Glenville, one hundred miles 
from Parkersburg, and twelve miles from Beverly, the 
:ounty seat of Eandolph county. It is long, narrow, and 
nigh ; and, except the summit, whereon is Mr. Hart's farm, 
it is covered with timber densely, save a narrow strip on one 
side, which is thickly covered with laurel. The Parkersburg 
and Staunton pike winds round the mountain, and passes, by 
the heads of ravines, directly over its top. The soil is black 
and rich, differing from that of all adjacent mountains ; and 
it is from this circumstance that its name is derived. 

The topographical formation of the mountain-top is admi- 
rably adapted for the erection of strong military defences ; 
and on this account General Garnett had selected it as a 
stronghold for his army. He had erected formidable fortifi- 
cations, rendering an attack fatal to the assailing party, on 
ihe'road leading up the mountain, which was deemed the only 
route by which the enemy could possibly reach his position. 
General McClellan was advancing with an army of five thou- 
sand men from Clarksburg, on the Parkersburg and Staunton 
turnpike, intending to attack Garnett early in the morning 
where his works crossed the road, not deeming any other 
route up the mountain practicable. Had he carried his plan 
into execution, subsequent examination showed that no 
earthly power could have saved him and his army from cer- 
tain defeat. The mountain was steep in front of the fortifi- 
cations ; reconnoissance, except in force, was impossible ; and 



398 



YOUNG HART, THE GUIDE. 



McCIellan nad determined to risk a battle directly on the 
road, where Garnett, without McClellan's knowledge, had 
rendered his defences impervious to any power that man 
could bring against him. 

Mr. Hart, whose farm is on the mountain, was a Union 
man, knew the ground occupied by Garnett, and had care- 
fully examined his fortifications on the road coming up the 
mountain. Hearing that McClellan was advancing, and fear- 
ing that he might attempt to scale the works at the road, he 
sent his little son, Joseph Hart, in the night, to meet 
McClellan and inform him of the situation of affairs on the 
mountain. Joseph, being but a boy, got through the rebel 
lines without difficulty, and travelling the rest of the night 
and part of the following day, reached the advanced guard 
of the Union army, informed them of the object of his 
coming, and was taken under guard to the general's quarters. 
Young as he was, the Federal commander looked upon him 
with suspicion. He questioned him closely. Joseph related 
in simple language all his father had told him of Garnett's 
position, the number of his force, the character of his works, 
and the impossibility of successfully attacking him on the 
mountain in the direction he proposed. The general listened 
attentively to his simple story, occasionally interrupting him 
with, " Tell the truth, my boy." At each interruption Jo- 
seph earnestly but quietly would reply, "I am . telling yc u 
the truth, general." " But," says the latter, " do you know, 
if you are not, you will be shot as a spy ?" "I am willing 
to be shot if all I say is not true," gently responded Joseph. 
" Well," says the general, after being satisfied of the entire 
honesty of his little visitor, " if I cannot go up the mountain 
by the road, in what way am I to go up ?" Joseph, who 
now saw that he was believed, from the manner of his in- 



YOUNG HART, THE GUIDE. 



399 



uerrugator, said there was a way up the oil er side, leaving 
the turnpike just at the foot, and going round the base to 
where the laurel was. There was no road there, and the 
mountain was very steep : but he had been up there ; there 
were but few trees standing, and none fallen down to be in 
the way. The laurel was very thick up the side of the 
mountain, and the top matted together so closely that a man 
could walk on the tops. The last statement of Joseph once 
more awakened a slight suspicion of General McClellan, who 
said sharply, " Do you say men can walk on the tops of the 
laurel?" "Yes, sir," said Joseph. "Do you think my army 
can go up the mountain, over the tops of the laurel ?" " !No, 
sir," promptly answered Joseph ; " but I have done so, and 
a man might if he would walk slowly and had nothing to 
carry." " But, my boy, don't you see, I have a great many 
men, and horses, and cannon to take up, and how do you 
think we could get up over that laurel ?" " The trees are 
small ; they are so small you can cat them down, without 
making any noise, with knives and hatchets ; and they will 
not know on the top of the mountain what you are doing or 
when you are coming," promptly and respectfully answered 
Joseph, who was now really to be the leader of the little 
army that was to decide the political destiny of West Vir- 
ginia. 

The Federal commander was satisfied with this ; and, al- 
though he had marched all day, and intended that night to 
take the easy way up the mountain by the road, he immedi- 
ately changed his plan of attack, and suddenly the army of 
the Union was moving away in the direction pointed out by 
Joseph Hart. When they came to the foot of the mountain, 
they left the smooth and easy track of the turnpike, and with 
difficulty wound round the broad base of the mountain 



400 



YOUNG HART 5 THE OUIDE. 



through ravines and ugly gorges, to the point indicated 1 y 
the little guide. Here the army halted. McClellan and some 
of his staff, with J oseph, proceeded to examine the nature of 
the ground, and the superincumbent laurel covering the 
mountain from its base to its summit. All was precisely as 
Joseph had described it in the chief's tent on the Staunton 
pike ; and the quick eye of the hero of Kich Mountain saw 
at a glance the feasibility of the attack. It was past mid 
night when the army reached the foot of the mountain. 
Though floating clouds hid the stars, the night was not en- 
tirely dark, and more than a thousand knives and hatchets 
were soon busy clearing away the marvellous laurel. Silence 
reigned throughout the lines, save the sharp click of the 
small blades and the rustle of the falling laurel. Before day- 
break the narrow and precipitous way was cleared, and the 
work of ascending commenced. The horses were tied at the 
foot of the mountain. The artillery horses were taken from 
the carriages. One by one the cannon were taken up the 
rough and steep side of the mountain by hand, and left within 
a short distance of the top, in such a situation as to be readily 
moved forward when the moment of attack should arrive. 
The main army then commenced the march up by companies, 
many falling down, but suddenly recovering their places. 
The ascent was a slow and tedious one. The way was wind- 
ing and a full mile. But before daybreak all was ready, and 
the Yankee cannon were booming upon and over the enemy's 
works, nearly in his rear, at an unexpected moment, and 
from an entirely unexpected quarter. They were thunder 
struck, as well as struck by shell and canister. They did the 
best they could by a feeble resistance, and fled precipitately 
down the mountain, pursued by the Federals to Cheat river, 
where the brave Garnett was killed. Two hundred fell on 



HURRAH FOR THE GUNSPIKER. 



401 



the mountain, and are buried by the side of the turnpike, with 
no other sign of the field of interment than a long indentation 
made by the sinking down of the earth in the line where the 
bodies lie. 



HURRAH FOR THE GUNSPIKER. 

Colonel Roberts, of the forty-second Illinois, rendered 
himself conspicuous for his bravery at Island No. 10, (where 
he so gloriously spiked the battery), and at Farmington ; ser 
vices so distinguished, that, in the subsequent battle in which 
he engaged, he acted as brigadier-general. His regiment was 
also noted for its coolness and bravery. When ordered to 
fall back, they did so under a terrible crossfire of grape and 
shell, with all the regularity of a parade. Halting occasion- 
ally and facing about, they would check the onward rush of 
the enemy, and then quietly resume their retreat. Their 
coolness was so conspicuous, that General Palmer, struck with 
admiration, galloped along their lines, hat in hand, shouting : 
" Brave forty-second, I wish I could be the father of every 
one of you I" Colonel Roberts exposed himself constantly, 
with perfect sang froicl, to the hottest fire of the enemy, and 
when the last regiment, the forty-second, passed through the 
gap, he in person commanded the rear-guard. Several times 
during the fight, as the colonel rode along the lines, the boys 
ceased from their labors to " hurrah for the gunspiker I" 
26 



402 



COLONEL DE VILLIERS' ESCAPE. 



COL. DE VILLIERS' ESCAPE. 

The experiences of Col. De Villiers, of the eleventh Ohio 
regiment, who was captured with others, in Western Vir- 
ginia, in 1861, and conveyed to Kichmond, and who after- 
ward made his escape, are thus detailed : — 

"Arrived at Richmond, they were taken to a tobacco 
warehouse, where they found forty other prisoners. In the 
room there was neither table nor bed. They were kept 
without food; no breakfast given them the next morning 
after their arrival- -and when, finally, a little bread was 
brought them, it was thrown upon the floor as to a dog ; and 
the quantity so small, that every man must make double- 
-quick in grabbing it, or he got none, and was compelled to 
beg from the others. But there were rich officers, who could 
huy something to eat ; for if the rebels did not love the 
northerners, they loved their gold. But, to shorten, he got 
the brain fever in prison, and was removed to the hospital ; 
and here the colonel took occasion to affirm, that the kind- 
ness which had been spoken of, as practised by the physi- 
cians, was not from rebels, but from our own surgeons. 

" Being by profession a physician, Col. De V., when he had 
sufficiently recovered, was asked by the hospital doctor to 
assist, which he consented to do ; and he was thus permitted 
to enjoy more liberty. By good fortune, one day the com- 
manding general gave the physicians liberty to go into the 
* city several times. They wore, as a distinguished body, a 
red ribbon, or badge, fixed in their button-hole. "When he 
encountered the sentinel, he was challenged, and forbidden to 
pass on the ground of being a prisoner ; the order of the 
general did not include him. Now, as they called him a 
French Yankee, l e thought he would play them a Yankee 



COLONEL DE VILLIERS' ESCAPE. 



403 



crick ; so he wrote a note stating that he was included. When 
he returned to the hospital, the rebel physician said he had 
been practising deceit, and must consequently go back among 
the prisoners. He was again incarcerated and put in irons. 
He soon made up his mind, however, to escape from there, or 
die. He was asked to take an oath by the rebels ; but, said 
be, 'I have taken an oath as a naturalized citizen of the 
United States, and I will never take another to conflict with 
it.' He had been tempted by the offer of position, but he 
abhorred the enemies of this Union, and could never forget 
that he came here for liberty's sake. He told Col. Wood- 
ruff of his determination to escape, for his time had come. 
Col. W. wished him well, and hoped that he would escape. 
He set about it, and devised a lie, and stole ; for which he 
felt assured he would be forgiven. He stole the coat and hat 
of a secession officer, and in that garb passed the guard. 

" Col. De Villiers, while brigade inspector at Camp Den- 
nison, Ohio, learned a lesson from the soldiers who wanted 
to go to Cincinnati. They were in the habit of lying in the 
bushes to hear the countersign, and having obtained it, 
passed the guard. Without the countersign he could not 
get out of the gate, even with his full uniform. So he lay 
for about two hours behind- the guard-house (in the night, as 
should have been stated), until he was happy by hearirg it. 
The guard called, at his approach, ' Who comes there ? ' A 
friend, with the countersign.' He passed the guard, the gate 
was opened, and he was once more free. He made his way to 
Manassas Junction, which is nothing but a swamp. About 
six miles from Richmond, he was encountered by a guard, 
and to his challenge replied, 'A friend, without the counter- 
sign.' [He had the precaution to lay the double-barrel shot 
gun, which he contrived to get before he escaped from Rich 



COLONEL DE VILLIERS' ESCAPE. 



mond, down before he approached this guard. He had { 
besides, a revolver and a bowie-knife.] 

" Approaching, they asked him where he was from and 
whither he was going. He replied from Eichmond to Peters- 
burg. They then asked why he did not take the railroad, 
and he said he missed the cars. They then took him in cus- 
tody, and marched, one on each side of him, upon a narrow 
bridge crossing a stream near at hand. The situation was 
desperate, but he was determined never to go back to Eich- 
mond alive; so when he got to about the middle of the 
bridge, he struck to the right and left, knocking one of the 
guards on one side and the other on the other side, and 
giving them both a good swim. Hence he made his wav 
toward Petersburg, subsisting for three days upon nothing 
but a few raw beans, 1 which was not very good for ni-3 
digestion.' 

" Upon this tramp, for a distance of sixty-five miles, he 
carried his skiff for crossing rivers (a pine board), upon his 
shoulder. During his travels he was several times shot a-t. 
When he got in the neighborhood of Magruder's forces, his 
hardest time began. He tried to pass sentinels several times, 
and at one time was twice shot at in quick succession. He 
shot too. He did not know whether he hit the two sentinels 
or not, but they never answered. But the whole brigade 
was aroused, and he took to the James Eiver in what he 
called his skiff, viz. : his pine board companion. He landed 
on the other side in a swamp, recrossing again near James- 
town, where he lost his gun. He had cast away his officer's 
coat, and what remained of his suit was rusty enough. So he 
took an open course, and resolved to ask for work ; but like 
the poor men in the south, when they ask for work, they are 
told to go into the service. Even fehe ladies do not look upon 



COLONEL DE VILLIERS' ESCAPE. 



405 



a young man unless he is in the service ; viewed from this 
test, there were more patriots in the south than in the north ; 
they were all soldiers, old and young. 

" He hired with a German blacksmith, at $1.50 per week, 
1 aving concluded to remain a while, and learn something of 
the condition of the rebel forces. He staid a fortnight, ob 
serving all the rebel movements. At the expiration of this 
time he got tired of blacksmithing, and wanted to go home. 
He found a good German Union man, to whom he told his 
story, without reservation, just as if he were telling it here 
to-night. This was of great service to him ; he led him for 
nine days, the colonel having adopted another Yankee trick, 
and made a blind man of himself; he couldn't see, and the 
German was his guide. Dropping the Yankee French, he 
became a French subject, and wanted to go back to France, 
because he could not get any work to do here ; and so he 
told General Huger, when he got into his command. This 
General promised to send him to Fortress Monroe with a flag 
of truce. The next flag of truce that was sent he accompa- 
nied, blind still, and led by this faithful German Union man. 

(l He contrived, unobserved, to tell the captain of the flag 
party that he was a prisoner, a Union officer, and had as- 
sumed blindness as a disguise, and that he should take him ; 
but the young officer said he could not understand it, and 
said he would inform General Wool. He did so, and Wool, 
being an old soldier, comprehended the matter at once, im- 
mediately sending another boat out to bring him ; but it was 
too late, for the rebel officer said it was not worth while 
waiting on the Yankees, and hastened off, Having lost his 
German guide, General Huger himself led him (the poor old 
blind man) with unaffected sympathy, to the hotel, and he 
assured him that he should go with the next flag of truce 



406 INCIDENTS OF MORGAN'S RAID. 

which was sent ; and he further took the trouble of writing a 
special letter to General Wool about the 'old French blind 
man who wanted to go home.' Colonel De Yilliers remarked 
that General Huger evinced true kindness toward him. 

" With the flag, there were, besides, a number of ladies, 
who 4 left the south for the purpose of going north to do 
business.' Though he was blind, he could see the glances 
they exchanged; and though old and somewhat deaf, he 
could hear the officers tell the ladies to learn all they could, 
and come back with the information — wishing them much 
success. 1 It is surprising what fine spies they make !' 

"When he got into safe quarters, he threw off his disguise, 
his decrepitude — saw and was strong — observing, without 
surprise himself, the astonishment of the ladies at the change." 



INCIDENTS OF MORGAN'S RAID. 

The Morgan raid is ended — the great marauder captured 
and safely quartered in the Ohio Penitentiary ; the brave 
militia, who responded so nobly to the governor's call to rally 
and drive the invaders from our soil, have returned to their 
homes, and the narration of adventures is now the order. As 
every incident connected with the raid is of interest, I pro- 
pose to relate my experience with the raiders, how they 
looked, and what they said.* 

About an hour before the expedition under Colonel Rankle 
left, I received from Surgeon Scott a peremptory order to re- 
port forthwith for duty on his staff. Reported accordingly at 
the railroad depot, where Dr. Scott was already waiting with 



* From the " Sciota Gazette." 



INCIDENTS OF MORGAN'S RAID. 



407 



sundry ominous-looking mahogany boxes, baskets of ban- 
dages, lint and other articles necessary in the care of sick and 
wounded. For an hour we waited at the depot, while, in the 
dim starlight, companies and regiments of armed men marched 
and countermarched, forwarded and halted, and at last, about 
midnight, all were safely stowed away in the cars, and the 
long train moved off amid enthusiastic cheers. 

Arrived at Hamden about two o'clock. From there we 
could distinctly see the light of the burning depot at Jackson 
— evidence unmistakable that we were in the vicinity of " the 
enemy." Our forces, numbering about two thousand, were 
unloaded and got in marching order, and about daylight the 
column began to move toward Berlin, distant six miles, where 
it was thought the rebels would pass on their way east from 
Jackson. Eeached a position about half a mile from Berlin 
about six o'clock A. M., when a report was brought in that 
the rebs were still in Jackson, and would probably soon be 
in our vicinity. For a short time there was a little excite- 
ment along our column, but this soon died away, and it grew 
dull and tiresome, lying there by the roadside waiting for 
something to turn up. An hour passed away and yet no 
rebels in sight or hearing ; so, borrowing a couple of horses 
that our men had " pressed" into the service, Dr. J. D. Miller 
and myself organized ourselves into an independent scouting 
party and set out to gather what information we could about 
the enemy. 

The morning was pleasant, the air pure and bracing, and 
the excitement just sufficient to render the ride delightful. 
Learning that a number of scouts had gone out on the Jack- 
son, road, we decided to strike south from Berlin to the road 
leading from Jackson to Gallipolis, which we thought it prob- 
able the rebels would take. All along the road the houses 



408 



INCIDENTS OF MORGAN S RAID. 



were apparently deserted ; the doors were closed, the window- 
blinds down, and neither man, woman, child, nor horse was 
to "be seen. At one house we could see, through a broken 
window-pane, the breakfast-table standing with the morning 
meal apparently untouched. The family had probably heard 
the news of Morgan's approach, and without waiting for hi 
appearance had made a precipitate retreat. At another, 
where all was quiet and apparently deserted, on looking back 
after we had passed, we saw a terrified looking face peeping 
timidly out from behind a window-blind. The people along 
tha", road were evidently enjoying a tremendous scare. 

At length we arrived at the little village of Winchester, 
on the road leading from Jackson to Gallipolis, and eight 
miles from the former. It is a pretty hard place, and I'll 
wager an old hat that its voters are pretty nearly unanimous 
for Yallandigham. We had the luck to be mistaken here for 
a couple of Morgan's men, which I can only account for 
from the fact that my companion, Dr. J. D. M., is an ardent 
V&llandighammer. I haven't much doubt, however, but 
that we fared better than if we had been known as Union 
scouts. We inquired of a mild-looking old man, if he could 
tell us where we could get something to eat. He directed us 
up the street to a little eight-by-ten grocery ; we rode up and 
found the door locked and the windows barred. After sun- 
dry vigorous knocks, we got an answer from the proprietor 
inside, who cautiously unlocked the door, when the following 
colloquy took place : — 

" Have you any bread ?" 

"No, sir." 

" Any pies ?" 

" No, sir." 

" Any craskers ?" 



INCIDENTS OF MOEGAN's RAID. 



409 



" Yes, a few." 
" Any cheese ? 
" Not a bit." 

" Well, give us some crackers, then ?" and with trembling 
L»nd he weighed out a pound or so, that might have been a 
part of the stores in Noah's ark. In the meanwhile a crowd 
of a dozen or so of rather variegated specimens of humanity 
gathered around, all eager to learn the news. We ate our 
crackers and departed toward Jackson, distant eight miles, 
keeping a sharp lookout from every hill-top for the rebels. 
We met one young man who advised us not to go any fur- 
ther on that road ; he had been chased by about twenty -five 
of Morgan's men. 

4< How near did they get to you ?" I asked. 

"Within about two miles." 

The young man was evidently a little frightened. 

We rode on rapidly about a mile further, when leaving 
the main road we made a circuit of a mile or so through the 
fields toward the top of a high hill, from which we had been 
told we could see into Jackson. On the hill-side we tied our 
horses to a fence where they were, as we thought, well con- 
cealed by the brier and other bushes. Walking up to the 
top of the hill, we found a number of citizens there, eagerly 
watching the movements of the rebels, who could be seen 
from our position riding through the streets of the town, 
about a mile distant. In a short time they began to move 
out on the road we had travelled, and which passed within 
half a mile of our position on the hill. Securing the services 
of a young man to carry a dispatch back to Colonel Kunkle, 
I left Dr. J.D. and the citizens on the hill, and went down to 
a house by the roadside where I could have a better view of 
the rebels and see how they were mounted, armed, etc. 



410 



INCIDENTS OF MORGAN'S RAID. 



I bad been there but a few minutes when two of the raid 
ers, who were about a quarter of a mile in advance of the 
main body, came along. Riding up to where I was standing, 
they inquired the distance to Gallipolis ; what was the nearest 
point to the river ; whether there was any Union troops about 
t 1 ere, etc. I answered their questions so as to leave them 
rather more in the dark than before, and turning questioner, 
asked them how many men they had. 

" How many do you think we have ?" 

" There are various reports about your number," I replied 

" Well, what is your opinion?" 

" I don't think you have more than four or five thousand.'' 

" Yes, we have over twelve thousand," one of them replied 

" You haven't half that number," I answered. 

" Well, we have enough any how to ride through your 
State without any trouble," said they. 

" You're not through yet," I replied as they moved along. 

Shortly the main body came up, and I began to count 
them. They rode along rather slowly, several of them stop- 
ping a few minutes to inquire about the road, the nearest 
route to the river, etc., but 1 managed to keep an accurate 
account until about five hundred had passed, while one of 
them rode up with the request : 

" Will you be so good as to bring me a drink of water ?" 

He was very polite for a rebel, and a horse thief to boot 
and if it had not been for the company he was in, would have 
passed for a gentleman. I can't say I liked his polite request, 
but as it was backed by a pair of revolvers and a carbine, 1 
concluded that it might be promotive of my longevity to 
comply, so without stopping to argue the matter, I merely 
remarked : — 

" Well, sir, I don't like to wait on a rebel, but as you are a 
pretty good-looking man, I guess I can get you a drink." 



INCIDENTS OF MORGAN'S RAID. 



411 



Next came a man apparently fifty years of age riding in a 
buggy with a boy not more than fourteen or fifteen. "Will 
you please give me a cup of water for my sick boy ?" he 
asked. The boy was evidently quite sick. He was leaning 
heavily against his father, who supported him as well as he 
could with his left arm. I handed him the cup, which he 
took with a trembling hand, thanking me very kindly for it, 
his eyes speaking more thanks than his lips. He was a fine 
looking boy, but what a training was it that he was receiving ! 
His father I could see felt very anxious about his condition, 
and to my remark that " that was a hard business for a boy, 
especially a sick one," he replied : " Yes, and I wish we were 
out of it." My conversation with them was cut short by a 
fellow with a face that ought to have hung him long ago, 
who rode up to the fence and sung out : — 

" Here, stranger, give me a drink." 

I took another look at his face, and then at the pair of 
revolvers in his belt, and concluded that I had better get rid 
of him as soon as possible ; so I gave him a drink, and he 
went on without so much as saying " Thank you." 

By this time quite a number had gathered around the 
place where I was standing, some wanting water, others bread, 
others pies, or any thing else they could get to eat ; while 
others appeared more anxious to learn the nearest road to 
the river. I told them to go to the well and help themselves 
to water, and a number of them rode in, while others dis- 
mounted, tied their horses to the fence and walked in. Their 
applications for food were not very successful ; all they got 
was a cold biscuit and two cold potatoes, — the ladies at the 
house assuring them that they had nothing else prepared. 
One of the ladies was the mother and the other the wife of 
Lieutenant-colonel Dove of the second (Union) Virginia 



412 



INCIDENTS OF MORGANS RAID. 



Cavalry. Colonel Dove had returned home wounded, a few 
days before ; but, on hearing of the approach of the raiders, 
had been taken to some place of concealment. The ladies, of 
course, were unconditional Unionists, and not at all disposed 
to furnish supplies for such a band of rebel marauders. One 
fellow rode up and inquired of Mrs. Dove if there was a 
saddle about the place that he could get. She told him there 
was not 

"I'll see if I can't find one," he said, as he rode over to the 
barn on the opposite side of the road. 

He didn't find a saddle, but there was a good buggy in the 
barn, to which he harnessed his horse, and driving out into 
the road, took his place in the ranks and went on, apparently 
very well pleased with the change in his mode of travelling. 

"What do you think of rebels now?" inquired a rather 
jolly -looking young man, as they rode by. 

"Eather a hard-looking set," I answered. 

"Well, I haven't seen a good-looking Yankee, since I've 
been north of the river," he replied ; at which the squad he 
was with felt called upon to indulge in a laugh. 

Another stopped and dismounted near where I was stand- 
ing to arrange something about his saddle. His horse was 
small, poor, and nearly worn out. 

a If I got my horses as you do," I remarked to him, 14 I'd 
ride a better one than that." 

" We can't always get such as we want," said he ; " and 
they don't raise any good horses through here." 

Another came riding up on what had been one of the 
finest horses they had — a large and elegantly built iron gray 
— but very much worn down. The rebel said he had ridden 
him ever since they crossed the river — said he wanted a 
fresh horse, and asked if I had one I'd like to trade. Told 
him I didn't know but I had. 



INCIDENTS OF MORGANS RAID. 



413 



"Where?" 

" Across there." 

"How far?" 

" About forty or fifty miles." 

" I guess I'll not go to-day," he said, as he started off. 
I asked another why they didn't go to Chillicothe the day 
before ? 

" Were they looking for us there ?" 
" I believe some people were." 

" Well, we're going on through two or three more States, 
and we'll call as we return," he replied. 

" Provided Hobson isn't in your way," I said. 

" Hobson won't trouble us," he answered. " All we know 
about him is what we see in the daily papers." 

I thought, but didn't say, that it was probable they would 
have the honor of a more intimate acquaintance ere many 
days. 

But enough of what they said. A few words about how 
they looked. 

Personally a majority of them would have been fine-look- 
ing men, if they had been washed and respectably dressed ; 
but they were covered with dust and all looked tired and 
worn down. Many went nodding along half asleep. A 
hundred or more wore veils, most of which looked new, and 
I presume had been taken from the stores in Jackson ; others 
had handkerchiefs over their faces to shield them from the 
dust, I noticed an intelligent looking contraband wearing a 
fine blue veil, which he raised very gracefully, as he rode up 
to a rebel, whom he accosted as " massa." Scarcely any two 
were dressed alike. Their clothing was made of butternut 
jeans, tweed, cassimere, linen, cloth, and almost every thing 
ever used for men's wear. A few — perhaps a dozen — wore 



414 



INCIDENTS OF MORGAN'S RAID. 



blue blouses and pants such as are worn by United States 
soldiers. 

A large number of them had various articles of dry goods, 
— bolts of calico and muslin, pieces of silks and satins, 
cassimeres, and broadcloths, — tied on behind their saddles. 
Some had two or three pairs of new boots and shoes hanging 
about them. I don't think the stock of dry goods left in 
Jackson could have been very large or varied. 

They were not well armed, as has been reported. A few 
had carbines, many had double barrelled shot guns, some mus- 
kets, a small number had revolving rifles, and nearly all had 
revolving pistols. There were not, I think, a dozen sabres 
in the whole division. They had three pieces of artillery, — 
brass six-pounders, — but not a single caisson, so that all the 
ammunition for these must have been carried in the boxes 
of the gun-carriages, wnich would have held but a small sup- 

Their only wagon-train consisted of five light two-horse 
wagons. In four of these they had sick men ; in the other, 
carpet-sacks, valises, a few trunks, etc., which I took to be 
the officers' baggage. 

They did not ride in any regular order, but two, three, 
four, and sometimes eight abreast, just as it happened. The 
officers wore no badges, or any thing that would distinguish 
them from privates. The last two men in the division rode 
up to where I was standing, and entered into conversation. 
One was perhaps twenty years of age, the other about twenty- 
five, and both appeared to be intelligent and well-informed. 
I learned from them that their division was under command 
of Colonel Bushrod Johnson ; that John Morgan and Basil 
Duke were both with the division that took the Berlin road 
from Jackson (and with which our boys fought the famous 



INCIDENTS GF MORGAN'S RAID. 



415 



1 battle of BerHn Heights"). They admitted that they were 
rery tired, but felt confident they could get safely out of the 
state. I told them, in the course of the conversation, that I 
,vas from Chill icothe, when they said they knew some of onr 
citizens, and, naming them, inquired if I was acquainted with 
them. Answering in the affirmative, they gave me some 
friendly messages for their Chillicothe friends and rode on. 
The name of the elder was George Logan, that of the 
younger, Lloyd Malone. I did not tell them that one of 
their friends was a major in one of our militia regiments, and 
about that time was up at Berlin engaging their leader, 
John Morgan. I have since learned that Malone was, until 
recently, a strong Unionist, and it was only after long con- 
tinued importunity by his father that he was induced to 
espouse the rebel cause. 

I think the number of men in that division was about two 
thousand five hundred, and comprised something more than 
half of Morgan's entire force. 

As soon as they had all passed, I started up the hill, in- 
tending to get my horse and ride back to headquarters as 
speedily as possible and report to Colonel Eunkle. I had 
not gone far when I met a badly frightened individual mak- 
ing fast time down the hill. I managed to bring him to a 
halt, and learned from him that a squad of the rebels had just 
passed that way and taken our horses, saddles, and bridles, 
leaving in their stead, two of their worn-down horse?, and 
one mule, but no saddle or bridle. They were better horse- 
thieves than I gave them credit for being, or they never 
would have found our horses, away up there among the 
brier-bushes. Arriving at the top of the hill, I stopped a 
short time to consider "the situation." My companion, J. D. 
M., after a liberal application of Jackson county free soil to 



416 INCIDENTS OF MORGAN'S RAID. 



his hands and face, borrowed an old coat and an old hat, and 
thus disguised, ventured, with the citizens who had collected 
on the hill, to go out to the roadside at a point half a mile or 
so beyond the house to which I had gone. I have heard, 
but don't vouch for the truth of the report, that the doctor, 
in order to insure his personal safely and conciliate the rebs, 
assured a number of them that he was an ardent Yallandig- 
hammer. 

I waited a short time for his return to the place we had 
left our horses, but he did not come, and I started alone on 
my way back to camp. He soon afterward returned, how- 
ever, and secured the horses the rebels had left in place of 
ours, went to Jackson, and there got a conveyance to head- 
quarters, where we arrived about ten o'clock at night. 

The rebels did not make any thing by that trade — the 
horses they had left, as soon as they recover from their 
fatigue, will be worth more than those they took. 

My march back to camp was not a very pleasant one. To 
save distance, I took across hills and fields and through the 
woods. The mercury must have been about ninety, and 
those Jackson hills are high, and steep, and rough. I tried 
at several farm-houses to "press" a horse into service, but 
always found that Morgan's men had been there just before 
me. I heard, as I neared Berlin, some exciting stories about 
the terrific " battle of Berlin Heights," — how there had been 
heavy cannonading all day, and how our gallant militia had 
" fought like demons." Arrived at headquarters about fouT 
p. M., and made my report to Colonel Kunkle, well satisfied 
with my day's scouting. 



ADVENTURE OF CAPTAIN STRONG. 



417 



ADVENTURE OF CAPTAIN STRONG. 

The following account of the adventure of Captain W. 
E. Strong, of the second regiment of Wisconsin volunteers, 
was given by that officer in an official report to Major Lar- 
rabee, dated at Camp Advance, September 7, 1861: — 

"In pursuance of your order of yesterday, I proceeded to 
examine the woods to the right of our exterior line, for the 
purpose of satisfying yourself whether the line should be ex- 
tended. The last picket was stationed about four hundred 
yards from the river — being our outpost on our right exterior 
line — leaving a dense thicket of pine undergrowth between it 
and the river. From my means of observation up to that 
time, I had concluded that our pickets were not sufficiently 
advanced in that direction, as this space was wholly unoccu- 
pied. At least I thought the ground should be examined ; 
and in this you were pleased to fully concur. 

" You desired me to make a minute examination of the 
ground, and be ready to report when you should return, at 
three o'clock, p. m. of that day t Accordingly, after dinner, 
1 passed along the line until I reached the extreme out- 
post on the right, which consisted of Lieutenant Dodge, 
Corporal Manderson, and three privates, and then proceeded 
along over very rough and densely wooded ground to the 
river. I soon ascertained that these physical obstacles were 
so great that no body of troops could, in this direction, turn 
our right flank, and there was no necessity of extending our 
pickets. I then concluded to return ; and for the purpose, 
of avoiding the dense undergrowth, I turned back on a line 
about a hundred rods in advance of the direction of our 
line of. pickets. As I was passing through a thicket, I was 
urrounded by six rebel soldiers — -four infantry and two 
27 



418 



ADVENTURE OE CAPTAIN STRONG. 



cavalry. The footmen were poorly dressed and badly armed 
Seeing I was caught, I thought it best to surrender at once. 
So I said, ' Gentlemen, you have me.' T was asked various 
questions as to who I was. where I was going, what regiment 
I belonged to. etc., all of which I refused to answer. One of 
the footmen said, 1 Let's hang the d — d Yankee scoundrel/ 
and pointed to a convenient limb. Another man said, 1 Xo : 
let's take him to the camp, and then hang him.' One of the 
cavalrymen, who seemed to be leader, said, ' We'll take him 
to camp.' They then marched me through an open place — 
two in front, two in the rear, and a calvary man on each 
side of me. I was armed with two revolvers and my sword. 

" After going some twenty rods, the sergeant on my right, 
noticing my pistols, ordered me to give them up, together 
with my sword. I said, 1 Certainly, gentlemen,' and imme- 
diately halted. As I stopped, they all filed past me, and of 
course were in front. We were at this time in an open 
part of the woods, but about sixty yards to the rear was a 
thicket of undergrowth. Thus every thing was in my favor; 
I was quick of foot, and a passable shot . yet the design of 
escape was not formed until I brought my pistol pouches 
round to the front part of my body, and my hands touched 
the stocks. The grasping of the pistols suggested the thought 
of cocking them as I drew them out. This I did; and the 
moment I got command of them. I shot down two footmen 
nearest me — about sixty feet off — one with each hand. I 
immediately turned and ran toward the thicket in the rear. 
The confusion of mv captors was a^rjarentlv so sreat, that I 
had nearly reached cover before shots were fired at me. One 
ball passed through my left cheek, passing out of my mouth. 
Another one, a musket-ball, passed through mv canteen 
Immediately upon this volley the two cavalrymen separated — 



"dabney," the colored scout. 



419 



one on my left and the other on my right — to cut off my 
retreat. The remaining two footmen charged directly to- 
ward me; I turned, when the horsemen got up, and fired 
three or four shots, but the balls flew wild. I ran on, got 
over a small knoll, and nearly regained one of our pickets, 
when I was headed off by both the mounted men. The 
sergeant called out to me to halt and surrender ; I gave no 
reply but fired and ran in the opposite direction. He pur- 
sued and overtook me ; I turned, took good aim, pulled the 
trigger, but the cap snapped. At this time his carbine was 
unslung, and he was holding it with both hands on the left- 
side of his horse. He fired at my breast without raising the 
piece to his shoulder, and the shot passed from the right side 
of my coat, through it and my shirt, to the left, just grazing 
the skin ; the piece was so near as to burn the cloth out the 
size of one's hand. I was, however uninjured at this time, 
save the shot through my cheek. I then fired at him again, 
and brought him to the ground, hanging by his foot in the 
left stirrup, and the horse galloping towards the camp. I 
saw no more of the other horsemen, nor of the footmen, but 
running on soon came to our own pickets uninjured, save 
the shot through my cheek, but otherwise much exhausted 
from my exertions," 



" DABKEY," THE COLORED SCOUT. 

He was emphatically what the old southern advertise* 
ments used to call a "smart, likely negro fellow;" and after 
he had left his secesh master, who lived on the south bank 
of the Rappahannock, above Fredericksburg, General nookei 



420 



"dabney," the colored scout. 



found his minute and reliable knowledge of the country and 
the character of its inhabitants of great importance to him. 

On one occasion, just before the battle of Chancellorsville, 
a scouting party had come in, who reported a certain locality 

entirely free of the enemy; they had talked with Mr. D , a 

farmer, who said there were no southerners anywhere near 
him, and had not been for several days. Dabney heard the 
report of the scouts, and warned the general not to believe a 
word of what they heard Mr. D say. 

" You must take him just contrary wise from what he 
calks," said Dabney. " If he says there are no rebels there, 
you may be sure there are plenty of them all about, and got 
their big guns all ready." 

But considerable faith was attached to what the scouts 
had reported, and a force was sent to feel in that neighbor- 
hood, and see what there might be there. 

Dabney went at the head of the column as pilot, though 
all the time protesting that, instead of taking that man at 
his word, they should be prepared for the worst. Dabney 
was well mounted, and felt no little pride as he moved along, 
at the head of a powerful column, over roads which he had 
so often trod with the dejected air and clouded spirit of a 
slave. 

" I know that man very well," he kept saying. " He's my 
ole mass'r, and he's a man you have to take just contrary to 
what he says." 

Soon the head of the column approached the locality ; and 
sure enough, the rebels were there in force, and opened with 
a storm of grape and canister. The Union force soon got 
guns in position, aud a brisk skirmish was going on, in the 
midst of which Dabney's fine horse fell under him, pierced 
by a grape-shot. But he was not to be dismounted as easily 



DRIVING HOME THE COWS. 



421 



as that, and while the fight was quite lively, and his old 
master was fully occupied with the stirring scene, Dabney 
slipped down to the river, swam across, went to the stables, 
and taking the finest horse there, mounted him, dashed down 
to the river, swam him across, and came back to the Union 
lines, all the time under fire, saying, as he rode up, "I tol 
you you couldn't depend on what that man said about the 
rebs not being there; but never mind, it has given me a 
chance to 'fiscate a mighty fine horse." 

After that adventure, as he was finely mounted, and his 
knowledge of the inhabitants was shown to be reliable, he 
was constantly employed as a pilot to the scouting parties. 



DKIYING HOME THE COWS. 

BY MISS KATE P. OSGOOD. 

Out of the clover and blue-e}^ed grass 
He turned them into the river-lane ; 

One after another he let them pass, 
Then fastened the meadow bars again. 

Under the willows, and over the hill, 
He patiently followed their sober pace ; 

The merry whistle for once was still, 

And something shadowed the sunny face. 

Only a boy ! and his father had said 
He never could let his youngest go : 

Two already were lying dead 

Under the feet of the trampling foe. 



DRIVING HOME THE CCm~3. 



But after the evening work was clone, 

And the frogs were loud in the meadow- swamp, 

Over his shoulder he sluno- his sun 
And stealthily followed the foot-path damp. 

Across the clover, and through the wheat, 
With resolute heart and purpose grim, 

Though cold was the dew on his hurrying feet, 
And the blind bat's flitting startled him. 

Thrice since then had the lanes been white. 

And the orchards sweet with apple-bloom ; 
And now. when the cows came back at night, 

The feeble father drove them home. 

For news had come to the lonely farm 

That three were lying where two had lain ; 

And the old man's tremulous, palsied arm 
Could never lean on a son's again. 

The summer day grew cool and late, 

He went for the cows when the work was done 

But down the lane, as he opened the gate, 
He saw them coming, one by one: 

Brindle, Ebony. Speckle, and Bess, 

Shaking their' horns in the evening wind ; 

Cropping the butter-cups out of the grass — 
But who was it following close behind? 

Loosely swung in the idle air 

The empty sleeve of army blue ; 
And worn and pale, from the crisping hair, 

Looked out a face that the father knew. 



A SOUTHERN ATARI TR. 



423 



For Southern prisons will sometimes yawn, 

And yield their dead unto life again ; 
And the day that comes with a cloudy dawn 

In golden glory at last may wane. 

The great tears sprang to their meeting eyes ; 

For the heart must speak when the lips are dumb ; 
And under the silent evening skies 

Together they followed the cattle home. 



A SOUTHEKN MARTYR. 

TVhex the secret history of current events at the south ia 
brought to light, there will be revelations of sacrifice and 
suffering for loyalty to the Union that will show that the age 
of heroism has not wholly gone by. A letter from a lady in 
Charleston, of undoubted authenticity, gives an account of a 
martyr to loyalty whose name w r ill be honored in the history 
that is to be written of the great events of this age, though 
now concealed from motives of prudence : — 

" Poor F is dead ; before the fall of Sumter, he exerted 

all his influence, using both, pen and voice against the rebel- 
lion, until he was thrown into prison. At first he was treated 
as an ordinary criminal awaiting trial ; but after the battle 
of Manassas, the Confederates seemed drunk with triumph at 
their victory, and mad wdth rage over the vast number of 
victims who fell in their ranks. I wrote you with what 
pomp this city mourned her dead; amid it all, when the 
Confederate host seemed like to win, F was offered free- 
dom and promotion if he would espouse the Confederate 
cause. His military and scientific attainments were cons id 



424 ADVENTURES OF AN IOWA BOY. 



erable, which, made them anxious for his services * I have 
sworn allegianee to the Union,' said he, ' and am not one to 
break my pledge.' When tempted with promotion if he 
could be prevailed upon to enlist beneath their banner, he 
said, ' You cannot buy my loyalty. I love Carolina and the 
south ; but I love my country better.' Finding him faithfu 
to the flag he loved, he was made to feel the power of his 
enemies. He was cast into a miserable, damp, ill-ventilated 
cell, and fed on coarse fare ; half the time neglected by his 
drunken keeper. His property was confiscated, and his wife 
and children beggared. Poor fellow ! he sank beneath his 
troubles, and was soon removed from the persecution of his 
oppressors. The day before his death he said to his wife : 
4 Mary, you are beggared because I would not prove dis- 
loyal.' ' God be thanked for your fidelity !' replied the wife. 
1 They have taken your wealth and life, but could not stain 
your honor, and our children shall boast of an unspotted 
name. My husband, rejoice in your truth.' She returned 
to her friends after his death, openly declaring her proudest 
boast should be, her husband died a martyr to his patriotism. 
Who shall say the day of heroism has passed ?" 



ADVENTUKES OF AN IOWA BOY. 

Among- the most remarkable adventures perpetrated 
during the war, is that related of Charles H. Smith, a private 
of the fourth Iowa cavalry, which is as follows : — 

He started with his regiment on Colonel Winslow's expe- 
dition to Grenada, and was captured by the rebels at that 
place. He remained their prisoner for four days, walking in 



ADVENTURES OF Ajtf IOWA BOY. 



425 



that time a distance of eighty miles in a state of semi-starva- 
tion. One evening they had halted about sundown, and put 
up for the night in an old school-house, situated ten miles 
west of West Point, on the road leading from West Point to 
Grenada. The school-house had a door on each side, a 
chimney in one end, and a window without fr^me or 
shutter in the other. They barricaded the window with a 
desk convenient, barred the eastern door, and stationed a 
guard in the other. 

When it had come sleeping time, the Yankees — six in 
all — were allotted that portion next the chimney, while the 
Butternuts — twenty in number — occupied the other end ; a 
line was designated across which no one must pass. Charlie 
laid down without removing any of his clothes, intending 
to lie awake and watch for an opportunity to escape, but weari- 
ness of body overcame the resolution, and he fell asleep. But 
he awakened betweeD one and two o'clock, and saw the guard 
sitting in the door smoking his pipe and conversing with the 
corporal of the guard, who was sitting by the fire outside. 
Slipping off his boots, and gathering his hat, haversack, and 
canteen, he crept over the sleeping " chivalry'' up on to the 
desk, and let himself quietly down and out at the window, 
reaching terra firma in safety. A splendid horse was tied to a 
tree at the end of the house, six or seven feet from where his 
doughty master and several companions were sleeping. A 
saddle and bridle were found on the window after considerable 
feeling around, which a few moments sufficed to put in their 
place, a moment more to lead the horse thirty yards and 
mount him. Six days sufficed to place him inside the 
Yankee lines, at Lagrange, Tennessee, nearly two hundred 
miles being travelled in that time. In passing through the 
Confederacy he avoided all towns and stations at which troops 



126 EXPLOITS OF A FORAGING PARTY. 

were quartered, though, with all his precaution, he several 
times came near running into their camps, only escaping by 
the greatest good fortune. He met small squads of shot-gun 
gentlemen nearly every day. To these and to the citizens he 
passed himself off for a paroled prisoner belonging to McCul- 
loch's command (second Missouri), and going home to see 
his old mother for the first time since the war broke out. 
Charlie considered the capture of the horse a capital joke. 
Its proprietor belonged to the fifteenth Mississippi regiment, 
and was home on a furlough. 



EXPLOITS OF A FORAGING PARTY. 

A soldier in the fifty-sixth New York volunteers was 
engaged in one of those excursions — partly military and 
partly predatory — which characterized the earlier years of 
the war. Just after his first exploits in that line in the 
winter of 1862, he wrote home to his father the following 
account from Yorktown, Virginia ; — 

" In order to make my promise good to you, I will now 
endeavor to pen you a short sketch of our expedition to Glou 
cester Court House. 

" On the morning of the eleventh of December, our regi- 
ment was drawn up in line at daylight, and a few minutes 
after, we started toward the fort. There was but little said 
by any of us as we marched along, keeping step to the beat 
of the drum. Every man's mind was busy ; for none of us 
knew where we were to go. Some thought we were going 
to join Burnside's army ; others, that we were going to 
Richmond direct ; and none liked the idea of leaving our 



EXPLOITS OF A FORAGING PARTY. 427 



cheerful quarters for the fierce and bloody fight, and the 
hardships of a winter campaign. 

" Well, we trudged along, entered the fort, and went down 
to the river, where we found a boat waiting to take us over 
to Gloucester Point. We found out soon after crossing the 
river, that we were to go to Gloucester Court House to drive 
out some rebels, who, it was said, were fortifying themselves 
there. We started a little after seven, and one hour later 
had passed the outer pickets, and were fairly in Secessia, 
The people were surprised at the display we made. There 
had never been any soldiers through there before us. The 
darkies were overjoyed at our coming, and kindly gave us 
all the eggs, milk, and hoe-cake we wanted. The country we 
passed through was a rich one. No army had been there 
to destroy their crops and cattle, and they possessed abun- 
dance. 

"At three P. M. we entered the town. Our cavalry had 
driven off a few stray rebels, and we took peaceable posses- 
sion. There was no visible evidence of the rebels intending 
to fortify the town. Not knowing but that we might be 
attacked during the night, General Naglee had the battery 
planted in a good position, a strong picket posted, and issued 
orders to have every man ready to fall in at a minute's 
notice. 

" Our regiment lay on their arms all night on the roadside 
We suffered some from cold. The boys could not stand 
that; so they commenced prowling about the place for 
plunder. There was soon a great uproar among the fowls. 
Chickens cackled, geese and ducks quacked, and turkeys 
gobbled; but 'twas no use. It was too near Christmas to 
give them a chance for their lives. Consequently they lost 
their heads and feathers, and soon found themselves boiling 
in the camp-kettles. 



EXPLOITS OF A FORAGING PARTY. 



" A good old secesh dominie, living in the -upper part of 
tlie town, heard a great racket in the neighborhood of his 
henerj. He poked his head out of the window to see what 
was going on. He saw three or four blue-jackets. One was 
lugging off a skip of honey. 

" ' Stop ! stop ! I command j you !' roared out the old fel- 
low. 

" His wife (who, no doubt had been in Eichmond, and 
learned the military) told him to call £ Corporal of the guard.' 
He did so, when a fellow jumped into the yard, saying he 
was a corporal, and wanted to know what was the matter. 
Dominie told him how he had been robbed, and asked him 
to take care of his honey. 

'"To be sure I will,' says the willing corporal; and he 
picks up a skip, and starts off with it. 

11 ' But where are you going with that skip ?' says dominie. 

li ' 0, I am going to take care of it for you,' says Bogus; 
and off he goes. 

" The dominie hauls in his head, and the boys haul in 
the rest of his honey and fowls. 

" At noon we pitched our camp in a gentleman's door- 
yard. We did nothing more to-day, and had a bully night's 
rest. Next morning the general gave orders for the fifty- 
sixth to go out foraging. Captain Smith headed the party, 
numbering forty or fifty. We started for the plantation of a 
Mr. Field, a strong secessionist. On arriving at his house the 
captain halted and fronted us, and then went up to Field and 
told him that we wanted some of his stock for government 
use. He told the captain to help himself to what he wanted. 
The captain then divided the squad into two equal parts, one 
to capture and bring in stock, the other party to act as re- 
serve and guard. Well, this fun lasted about aii hour, and 



EXPLOITS OF A FORAGING PARTY. 



429 



I caught but one old setting ben, and my sides a^hod 'with 
jaughter. The ground was thickly strewn with dead poul- 
try, for the boys soon learned to kill their birds, and they 
now set about picking them up. The captain started twenty 
men back to camp with the plunder. The rest of us went to 
another house, but luckily for somebody, it was deserted. 
Farther on was to be seen another house. The first glance, 
on arriving at the place, told us that these folks were poor. 
Captain went to speak to an old woman, who came to the 
door. I went to the negro quarters, and found by inquiry, 
that the old lady had long been a widow, that she was very 
poor, and had three sons in the rebel army. One had been 
killed in the battle before Eichmond. The boys now com- 
menced a war on the poultry, and I was determined that all 
the fowls should be spared to the old lady. There she 
stood in the door with clasped hands, her gray hair looking 
out from underneath the wide border of her cap. A pretty 
little girl of five or six years (a grandchild), with golden 
hair in curls, stood near, clinging to the old lady's skirt, and 
trying to get her in and shut the door. The boys were bent 
on having the poultry, and as Captain Smith had not for- 
bidden it, they took every thing. Here I did one of the 
meanest acts that I ever did in all my life. It was this : 
after trying to save the old lady's property, I caught a duck 
and wrung its neck before her eyes. Never shall I forget 
the look she gave me. She thought me to be her only 
friend before this ; but now I, too, had proved an enemy. 
0, how her heart sunk within her ! She sank down into a 
chair, and gave herself up to the loudest lamentations. I 
can reconcile myself to take property from rich secessionists 
for the government, but now I am down on robbing poor 
le's hen-roosts." 



430 



THE BRA YE DRUMMER BOY. 



THE BEAYE DEUMMEE BOY. 

The battle of Fredericksburg was attended bj many 
memorable instances of individual heroism. It is known 
that, for several days, a curtain of thick fog rose up from the 
waters of the Eappahanaock, completely hiding from view 
the artillery that crowned the opposite hills, and the infantry 
that crowded the sheltering ravines. But the preparatioo 
for the great fight, so hopefully commenced, was continued 
amid the thunder of cannon and the eruptions of exploding 
batteries. 

The hazardous work of laying the pontoon bridges was 
frequently interrupted by the murderous fire of Confederate 
sharpshooters, concealed in the stores and dwelling-houses 
on the banks of the river. To dislodge these men, and 
drive them out of their hiding-places, seemed an impossible 
task. At a given signal, the Union batteries opened with a 
terrific fire upon the city, crashing through the walls of 
houses and public buildings. But in this storm of shot and 
shell, which ploughed the streets, and set the buildings on 
fire, the sharpshooters survived, like salamanders in the 
flames, and continued to pour a deadly fire upon the Federal 
engineers and bridge- builders. 

In this dilemma it became evident that the bridges could 
not be laid except by a bold dash. Yolunteers were called 
for to cross in small boats ; forthwith, hundreds stepped for- 
ward and offered their services. One hundred men were 
chosen, and at once started for the boats. Eobert Henry 
Ilendershot was then a member of the eighth Michigan — 
acting as drummer-boy. Seeing a part of the Michigan 
seventh preparing to cross the river, he ran ahead, and 
leaped into the boat. One of the officers ordered him out, 



THE BRAVE DRUMMER BOY. 



431 



saying he would be shot. The boy replied that he didn't 
care, that he was willing to die for his country. When the 
boy found that the captain would not permit him to remain 
in the boat, he begged the privilege of pushing the boat otrj 
and the request was granted. Whereupon, instead of remain- 
ing on shore, he clung to the stern of the boat, and, sub- 
merged to the waist in water, he crossed the Eappahannock 
Soon as he landed, a fragment of a shell struck his old 
drum, and knocked it to pieces. Picking up a musket, he 
went in search of relics, and obtained a secesh flag, a clock, 
a knife, and a bone ring. On opening a back door in one of 
the enemy's houses, he found a Confederate wounded in the 
hand, and ordered him to surrender. He did so, and was 
taken by the boy- soldier to the seventh Michigan. When 
the drummer boy recrossed the river from Fredericksburg, 
General Burnside said to him, in the presence of the army : — 

" Boy, I glory in your spunk ; if you keep on this way a 
few more years, you will be in my place." 

Eobert is a native of New York, but moved with his 
parents to Michigan when he was an infant. His father died, 
leaving the mother in destitute circumstances, and with a 
family of four children to support and educate. Bob went 
from Jackson (Michigan) to Detroit, with Captain Deland, in 
the capacity of waiter in the ninth Michigan. With that 
regiment he went to Louisville, West Point, Kentucky, and 
Elizabethtown, Kentucky, — at the last named place, being 
appointed drummer boy. Subsequently he was in six battles, 
namely, Lebanon, Murfreesboro, Chattanooga, Shelbyville, 
McMinnville, and Fredericksburg. At the battle of Mur- 
freesboro, where the Union forces were taken by surprise, 
before daylight, in the morning, after beating the long-roll, 
and pulling the flfer out of bed to assist him, he threw aside 



432 MISS MAJOR CUSHMAN AMONG HER CAPTORS. 



his drum, and seizing a gun, fired sixteen rounds at the 
enemy from the window of the court-house in which his 
regiment was quartered ; but the Union men were compelled 
to surrender, and they were all taken prisoners, though 
immediately paroled, and afterwards sent to Camp Chase, 
Ohio Soon as the news came from the Kappahannoek that 
Bob had lost his drum in that terrible tempest of fire and 
iron, the New York Tribune Association promised to make 
good his loss and give him a new drum. If ever a little 
fellow deserved both drum and drumsticks, it was Eobert 
Hendershot, the gallant little western drummer boy, whose 
" spunk" elicited the admiration of Burnside. 



MISS MA JOE CUSHMAN AMONG- HEE CAPTOES. 

Some of the experiences of that remarkable woman, Miss 
Major Pauline Cushmau, the Federal scout and spy, are 
equal to any thing found in the pages of romance. They 
are of the most thrilling character. Indeed, among the 
women of America who made themselves famous during the 
opening of the rebellion, few have suffered more, or ren- 
dered more service to the Union cause, than she. 

At the commencement of hostilities, Miss Cushman resided 
in Cleveland, Ohio, and was quite well known as a clever 
actress. From Cleveland she went to Louisville, where she 
had an engagement in Wood's theatre. Here, by her inti- 
macy with certain rebel officers, she incurred the suspicion 
of being a secessionist, and was arrested by the Federal 
authorities. She indignantly denied that she was disloyal, 
although born at the south, and having a brother in a seces- 
sion Mississippi regiment. 



MISS MAJOR CU3HMAN AMONG HER CAPTORS. 433 



Iii order to test her love for the old flag, she was asked if 
she would enter the secret service of the government. She 
readily consented, and was at once employed to carry letters 
between Louisville and Nashville. She was subsequently 
employed by General Eosecrans, and was for many months 
with the army of the Cumberland. She visited the enemy's 
lines time after time, and was thoroughly acquainted with 
all the country and roads in Tennessee, Northern Georgia, 
Alabama and Mississippi, in which sections she rendered the 
Federal armies invaluable service. 

Twice was she suspected of being a spy, and taken pris- 
oner, but managed to escape. At last, however, she was not 
so fortunate. After the Union forces had captured Nashville, 
Major Cushman made a scout toward Shelby ville, to obtain 
information of the strength and position of the enemy, and 
while returning to Nashville, was captured eleven miles from 
that city. She was placed on a horse, and, in charge of two 
scouts, was being taken to Spring Hill, the headquarters of 
Forrest. While thus on her way to that place, she feigned 
sickness and said she could not travel any fuj cher without 
falling from her horse. Her captors stopped at a house on 
the roadside, when ii was ascertained that a Federal scouting 
party had passed the place an hour before. Knowing thai 
her guards had important papers for General Bragg, the 
quick-witted spy seized the fact and- schemed to use it to her 
advantage. 

Seeing an old negro, who appeared to commiserate her 
unfortunate plight, she watched her opportunity and placed 
ten dollars of Tennessee money in his hand, saying — 

" Eun up the road, 'Uncle,' and come back in a few min- 
utes, telling us that four hundred Federals are coming down 
the street." 
26 



434 MISS MAJOR CUSHMAN AMONG HER CAPTORS. 

The faithful negro obeyed the order literally, and soon 
came back in the greatest excitement, telling the story. 
The two 1 rebs' told him he lied. The old colored man got 
down imploringly npon bis knees, saying — 

" massa, dey's comin, sure nuff ; de Lord help us, dey is 
comin'." 

The scouts at this believed his story, mounted their horses, 
and 'skedadled' for the woods. Miss Cushman, seizing a 
pistol belonging to a wounded soldier in the house, also 
mounted her horse and fled toward Franklin. She travelled 
through the rain, and, after nightfall, lost her way. Soon 
came the challenge of a picket, "Who comes there?" Think- 
ing she had reached the enemy's line, she said, " A friend of 
Jeff Davis." " All right," was the reply, " advance and give 
che countersign." 

She presented the countersign in the shape of a canteen of 
whiskey, She passed five pickets in this way, but the sixth 
and last was obdurate. She pleaded that she was going to 
see a sick uncle at Franklin, but the sentry ' couldn't see it. 7 
Sick and disheartened she turned back. Seeing; a light at a 
farm-house she sought shelter. An old man received her 
kindly, showed her a room, and said he would awake her at 
an early hour in the morning, and show her the road to 
Franklin. 

A loud knock awoke her in the morning from her lethean 
slumbers, and upon arousing, she found her horse saddled, 
and the two guards from whom she had escaped the previous 
afternoon ! She was taken to the headquarters of Forrest, 
and, after a critical examination, he sent her to General 
Bragg. Nothing could be found against her, until a seces- 
sion woman stole her gaiters, under the inner sole of which 
were found important documents which clearly proved her 



ROSECRANS' ORDERLY SERGEANT. 



435 



to be a spy. • She was tried and condemned to be executed 
as such, but being sick, her execution was postponed. She 
finally, after lying in prison some three months, sent for 
General Bragg, and asked him if he had no mercy. She 
received from him the comforting assurance that he should 
make an example of her, and that he should hang her as 
soon as she got well enough to be hung decently. 

"While in this state of suspense, the grand army of Rose- 
crans commenced its forward movement, and one fine day 
the secession town where she was imprisoned, was surprised 
and captured, and the heroine of this tale was, to her great 
joy, released. 

ROSECRAXS' ORDERLY SERGEANT DELIVERED 
OF A BABY IN CAMP. 

The following order, as unique in its way as any that 
the war gave rise to, can be best explained — if any further 
explanation be needed — by Major- General Rosecrans : — 

Headquarters, Department of the Cumberland. ) 

April 17, 1863. ' / 

"* GexePwAL : — The general commanding directs me to call 
your attention to a flagrant outrage committed in your com- 
mand, — a person having been admitted inside your fines, 
without a pass, and in violation of orders. The case is one 
which calls for your personal attention, and the general com- 
manding directs that you deal with the offending party or 
parties according to law. 

" The medical director reports that an orderly sergeant in 
Brigadier- General 's division ivas to-day delivered of a 



436 



ESCAPING FROil PRISON. 



bahj, — which is in violation of all military law and of the 
army regulations. No such case has been known since the 
days of Jupiter. 

" You will apply the proper punishment in this case, and 
a remedy to prevent a repetition of the act." 



ESCAPING FEOM PRISON. 

One of the neatest " sells" was that practiced by Mr. Rich 
ardson, (the brilliant writer for the New York Tribune) upon 
the prison-guard at Salisbury, North Carolina, when he — Mr. 
R., — made his escape from that southern domicil, together 
with some similarly situated comrades. In Mr. Richardson's 
account of his unique experience in this matter, he says : — 

Both " Junius" and our esteemed collaborator, Mr. William 
E. Davis, of the Cincinnati Gazette, had been furnished with 
passes to visit, during the day, a rebel hospital, outside the 
fence and inner line of guards, to order in medical supplies 
for the prisoners. The inflexible rule was, to exact paroles 
whenever passes were granted, but in the confusion attend- 
ant upon the great influx of prisoners, the authorities had 
neglected to require them. None of us would have given 
paroles in any event ; but my friends had the good fortune 
not to be asked for them. 

On that Sunday evening, half an hour before dark — the 
latest hour they could pass the guard — they both went out- 
side as usual to the rebel hospital. A few minutes after, 
taking in my hand a great box full of the bottles in which 
medicines were brought in, I, too, walked rapidly up to the 
gate, while a dozen friends, in the secret, were looking on to 



BEFORE YICKSBURG. 



437 



see the result I attempted to pass the sentinel, but he halted 
me, and asked : — 
( " Have yma pass, sir ?" 

" Certainly I have a pass," I answered. " Have you not 
seen it often enough to remember by this time ?" 

" Yery likely," he answered, a little nonplussed, " but 1 
was not quite sure, and our orders are very strict." 

Thereupon I exhibited to him the genuine pass belonging 
to my colleague, whose face was so well known to the sen- 
tinel — though not his name, as the event proved — that he 
had been able to go out without showing it. The soldier 
examined it, reading slowly and with difficulty, " Guards will 
permit Junius H. Browne, citizen-prisoner, to pass the inner 
gate, to bring in medical supplies ;" and then returned it, 
saying : " All right, sir : that pass is correct, for I know 
Captain Fuqua's handwriting." 

Once outside, I hid the medical box behind the fence, and 
found refuge in a little outbuilding until dark. My two 
friends there joined me ; and we walked through the outer 
gate into the streets in full view of the guard, who, seeing 
us come from the rebel hospital, supposed us to be surgeons 
or their assistants. 

By skilful movements the escape, so ingeniously com- 
menced, was carried out to complete success. 



BEFOEE VICKSBUKGk 

The president has recently appointed to the Naval School 
at. Newport a little drummer-boy of the fifty-fifth Illinois 
Volunteers, whose case was brought before him by Major 



438 



BEFORE YICKSBURG. 



General W. T. Sherman in the following lette.-. Truly, the 

letter does as much honor to the distinguished major-general, 
who could pause in the midst of the duties of a great 
campaign to pay such tribute to a drummer-boy, as it does to 
the little hero whom it celebrates : — 

" Head-Quarters fifteenth Army Corps, ") 
"Camp on Bia Black River, August 8, 1863.) 

" Hon. E. M. Stanton, Secretary of War : — 

"Sir: — I take the liberty of asking through you that 
something be done for a lad named Orion P. Howe, of 
Waukegan, Illinois, who belongs to the fifty -fifth Illinois, but 
at present at home wounded. I think he is too young for 
West Point, but would be the very thing for a midshipman. 

" When the assault at Yicksburg was at its height, on the 
nineteenth of May, and I was in front near the road, which 
formed my line of attack, this young lad came up to me, 
wounded and bleeding, with a good, healthy boy's cry, 
'General Sherman, send some cartridges to Colonel Malm- 
borg : the men are nearly all out.' ' What is the matter, my 
boy ?' ' They shot me in the leg, sir ; but I can go to the 
hospital. Send the cartridges right away.' Even where we 
stood the shot fell thick, and I told him to go to the rear at 
once, I would attend to the cartridges ; and off he limped. 
Just before he disappeared on the hill, he turned, and called, 
as loud as he could, ' Calibre 54.' I have not seen the lad 
since, and his colonel (Malmborg), on inquiry, gives me the 
address as above, and says he is a bright intelligent boy, with 
a fair preliminary education. 

a What arrested my attention then was — and what renewed 
my memory of the fact now is — that one so young, carrying 
a musket-ball through his leg, should have found his w/\y to 



BEFORE VICKSBURG. 439 

me on that fatal spot, and delivered his message, not forgetting 
the very important part, even the calibre of his musket — 54 — 
which, you know, is an unusual one. 

" I'll warrant the boy has in him the elements of a man, 
and I commend him to the government qs one worthy the 
fostering care of some one of its national institutions. 
" I am, with respect, your obedient servant, 

"W. T. Sherman. 
l< Major- General commanding ■* 

While Sherman stood beneath the hottest fire 

That from the lines of Yicksburg gleam'd, 
And bomb-shells tumbled in their smoky gyre, 
And grape-shot hiss'd, and case-shot scream'd 
Back from the front there came, 
Weeping and sorely lame, 
The merest child, the } r oungest face, ■ 
Man ever saw in such a fearful place. 

Stifling his tears, he limp'd his chief to meet ; 

But, when he paused and tottering stood, 
Around the circle of his little feet 

There spread a pool of bright young blood. 
Shock'd at his doleful case, 
Sherman cried, " Halt front face ! 
Who are you ? speak, my gallant boy !" 
" A drummer, sir, — fifty-fifth Illinois." 

" Are you not hit ?" " That's nothing. Only send 
Some cartridges. Our men are out, 

And the foe press us." " But, my little friend " 

" Don't mind me ! Did you hear that shout ? 
What if our men be driven ? 
Oh, for the love of heaven, 

Send to my colonel, general dear " 

" But you ?» " Oh, I shall easily find the rear." 



440 THE BELGIAN MUSKETS. 

" I'll see to that," cried Sherman ; and a drop, 

Angels might envy, dimm'd his eye, 
As the boy, toiling toward the hill's hard top 
Turn'd round, and, with his shrill child's cry, 
Shouted, " Oh, don't forget ! 
We'll win the battle yet ! 
But let our soldiers have some more — 
More cartridges, sir, — calibre fifty-four !" 



THE BELGIAN MUSKETS. 

An Illinois colonel felt it his duty to praise these double- 
icting arms. Said he, "In platoon firing with the Belgian 
musket, I can tell what I cannot with any other, and that is 
now many pieces have been fired." 

"How can you tell that ?" 

" O, / count the men on the ground. It never deceives me. 
It is 'fire and fall back? flat. 

11 One of these Belgian muskets will kick like a mule, and 
burst with the greatest facility. Several soldiers in our 
Illinois regiments have been killed in this way. The bayo- 
net, too, is a novelty — a soft iron affair, apparently designed 
f ;0 coil round the enemy, as it is introduced, thus taking 
him prisoner." 



HONORABLE COMMENDATION. 



441 



HONOKABLE COMMENDATION INSTEAD OF 
IGNOMINIOUS DEATH. 

It appears that information reached the President that a 
young man belonging to the Army of the Potomac had been 
sentenced by court martial to be shot for desertion. The 
boy was doomed to die in a few hours when the dis- 
patch was received. A telegram was sent to General Meade, 
suspending the execution of the sentence. An examina- 
tion of the case was ordered by the President, when it 
was ascertained that the young man ought, in justice, to 
have been promoted long ago for gallant and meritorious 
service, instead of being shot ! It was proved that upon the 
march of the Army of the Potomac toward Maryland, on 
the occasion of General Lee's first raid northward, the young 
man in question became exhausted and fell out of the ranks, 
and, as soon as he recovered, he proceeded on after his regi- 
ment, but not finding it, and there being no time to lose, he 
fell into the ranks of another regiment and fought gallantly 
at South Mountain and Antietam, and was wounded in the 
last named battle. He was sent to the hospital, which fact, 
owing to the absence of a proper system in such cases, did 
•not reach the officers of his regiment. At last he was 
arrested as a deserter, tried condemned, and was about to be 
shot, when, by the interference of the executive, his life was 
saved, and a young man hastily doomed to an ignominious 
death was suddenly restored to honor. 



4-12 ANNIE LILLYBEJDGE AND LIEUTENANT TV- 



ANNIE LILLYBBIDGE AND LIEUTENANT W— . 

Annie Lillybrldge, of Detroit, was for " Union," and in 
favor of the hardships and dangers of war, if need be, to 
secure that end. She courted, rather than shrank from, 
those hardships, and bared her breast to rebel bullets. 

According to Annie's account, her parents resided in 
Hamilton, Canada "West. In the spring of 1862, she was 
employed in a dry goods store in Detroit, where she became 
acquainted with Lieutenant W — , of one of the Michigan 
regiments, and an intimacy immediately sprang up between 
them. They corresponded for some time, and became much 
attached to each other. But during the ensuing summer 
season, Lieutenant W — was appointed to a position in the 
twenty-first Michigan infantry, then rendezvousing in Ionia 
county. 

The thought of parting from the gay lieutenant nearly 
drove Annie mad, and she resolved to share his dangers and 
be near him. No sooner had she resolved upon this course 
than she .proceeded to act. Purchasing male attire she vis- 
ited Ionia, and enlisted in Captain Kavanagh's company, 
twenty-first regiment. While in camp she managed to keep 
her secret from all ; not even the object of her attachments 
who met her every day,, was aware of her presence so near 
him. 

Annie left with her regiment for Kentucky, passed 
through all the dangers and temptations of a camp-life, 
endured long marches, and slept on the cold ground — all 
without a murmur. At last, before the battle of Pea Eidge, 
in which her regiment took part, her sex was curiously dis- 
covered by a member of her company, upon, whom she laid 
the injunction of secresy, after relating to him her previous 
history. 



ANNIE LILLYBRIDGE AND LIEUTENANT W -. 443 



On the following day she was under fire, and from a letter 
in her possession, it appears she behaved with marked 
gallantry, and by her own hand shot a rebel captain who was 
in the act of firing upon Lieutenant W — . But the fear of 
revealing her sex continually haunted her. 

After the battle, she was sent out with others, to collect 
the wounded, and one of the first corpses found by her was 
the soldier who had discovered her sex. Days and weeks 
passed on, and she became a universal favorite with the regi- 
ment ; so much so, that her colonel, Stephens, frequently 
detailed her as regimental clerk — a position that brought 
her in close contact with her lover, who, at this time, was 
major, or adjutant, of the regiment. 

A few weeks subsequently she was out on picket duty, 
when she received a shot in the arm that disabled her, and 
notwithstanding the efforts of the surgeon, her wound grew 
worse from day to day. She was sent to the hospital at 
Louisville, where she remained several months, when she 
was discharged by the post surgeon, as her arm was stiffened 
and useless. 

Annie implored to be permitted to return to her regiment, 
but the surgeon was unyielding, and discharged her. Annie 
immediately hurried toward home. At Cincinnati she told 
her secret to a benevolent lady, and was supplied with female 
attire. She declared she would enlist in her old regiment 
again, if there was a recruiting officer for the twenty-first in 
Michigan. She still clung to the lieutenant — said she must 
be near him if he fell, or was taken down sick — that where 
he went she would go — and when he died, she would end 
her life by her own hands. 



SCOTT AND THE VETERAN 



RATHER BE A SOLDIER'S WIDOW THAN A 
COWARD'S WIFE. 

One day a poor wounded soldier on crutches entered one 
of the New York city railway cars, which on this occasion 
happened to be occupied mainly by women. One of them 
considerately arose and gave the wounded man a place. Her 
neighbor, seeming to be scandalized by this abdication of 
feminine privileges, asked her if it were possible that she 
had voluntarily resigned her seat to "that man." She 
replied she had ; and she had a husband who was a soldier 
in the Union army, and that she had done only what she 
would wish others would do for him in a similar situation. 
The other replied that she had no husband in the Union 
army, and was glad of it. " Well," retorted the true Ameri- 
can wife, " I would rather be a soldier'' s widow than a coward's 
wife: 1 



SCOTT AND THE VETERAN. 

An old and crippled veteran to the War Department came : 
He sought the chief who led him on many a field of fame, — 
The chief who shouted, " Forward !" where'er his banner rose, 
And bore its stars in triumph behind the flying foes. 

"Have you forgotten, general," the batter'd soldier cried, 
'The days of eighteen hundred twelve, when I was at your 
side ? 

Have you forgotten Johnson, that fought at Lundy's Lane ? 
'Tis true I'm old and pension'd; but I want to fight again. M 



SCOTT AND THE VETERAN. 



"Have I forgotten," said the chief, "my brave old soldier? 
No! 

And here's the hand I gave you then, and let it tell you so ; 

But you have done your share, my friend ; you're crippled, old, 
and gray, 

And we have need of younger arms and fresher blood to-day." 

" But, general," cried the veteran, a flush upon his brow, 
" The very men who fought with us, they say, are traitors now. 
They've torn the flag of Lundy's Lane, our old Bed, White, 
and Blue ; 

And, while a drop of blood is left, I'll show that drop is true. 

" I'm not so weak but I can strike, and IVe a good old gun, 
To get the range of traitors' hearts and pick them one by one. 
Your minie rifles and such arms it a'n't worth while to try : 
I couldn't get the hang of them ; but I'll keep my powder 
dry!" 

"God bless you comrade!" said the chief; " God bless your 
loyal, heart ! 

But j^ounger men are in the field, and claim to have their part : 
They'll plant our sacred banner in each rebellious town, 
And woe henceforth to any hand that dares to pull it down !" 

" But, general," still persisting, the weeping veteran cried, 
" I'm young enough to follow, so long as you're my guide ; 
And some, you know, must bite the dust, and that at least 
can I : 

So give the young ones a place to fight, but me a place to die ! 

" If they should fire on Pickens, let the colonel in command 

Put me upon the rampart, with the flag-staff in my hand : 

No odds how hot the cannon smoke, or how the shells may 

fly, 

I'll hold the Stars and Stripes aloft* and hold them till I die ! 



446 FLIGHT, CAPTURE, AND DEATH OF BOOTH. 



"I'm /eady, general, so you let a post to me be given 
Where Washington can see me, as he looks from highest heaven, 
And says to Putnam at his side, or may-be General Wayne, 
'There stands old Billy Johnson, that fought at Lundy's Lane l 

" And when the fight is hottest, before the traitors fly 
When shell and ball are screeching and bursting in the sky, 
If any shot should hit me, and lay me on my face, 
My soul would go to Washington's and not to Arnold's place." 



FLIGHT, CAPTURE, AND DEATH OF BOOTH. 

Aftee eleven days had transpired since the death of the 
President, bis murderer, John "Wilkes Booth, was discovered 
in a barn, on Garrett's farm, near Port Eoyal, on the Eappa- 
hannock. Immediately after the murder, Colonel Baker, of 
the detective service, set out to find Booth's hiding-place. 
He soon succeeded in capturing Atzerodt, the would-be 
assassin of Yice-President Johnson, and Dr. Mudd. It was 
Dr. Mudd, w r ho attended to Booth's leg, crippled by his 
getting entangled with the flag that decorated the President's 
box, and a boot with Booth's name in it was found in his 
possession. A negro was then arrested, who said he had 
seen Booth and another man cross the Potomac in a fishing- 
boat. Colonel Baker sent to General Hancock for twenty- 
five mounted men to aid him in the pursuit. These were 
sent under Lieutenant Dougherty, and Baker placed them 
under the control of Lieutenant- Colonel Conger, and of his 
cousin, Lieutenant L. B. Baker, and dispatched them to 
Belle Plain, with orders to scour the country about Port 
Royal. 



FLIGHT, CAPTURE, AND DEATH OF BOOTH. 447 



The detectives and cavalrymen left Washington at two 
r xi., on the 23d of Apri , and at ten o'clock disembarked at 
Bolle Plain, near Fredericksburg. Here they commenced 
th-jir inquest, but without any result. The next morning 
thoy came to Port Royal ferry and crossed. At Port Eoyal 
they found one Eollins, a fisherman, who referred them to a 
negro, named Lucas, as having driven two men a short dis- 
tance toward Bowling Green, in a wagon. These men per 
fect'Jy answered the description of Booth and his accomplice 
Harold. Some disbanded men, it was learned, belonging to 
Mosby's command, took Booth under their protection on the 
way to Bowling Green. On the 25th, Baker and his party 
proceeded to Bowling Green, a small court-house town in 
Caroline county. Here they found the captain of the rebel 
cavalry, and extorted from him a statement of Booth's 
hiding-place. It was found that this was at the house of 
a Mr. Garrett, which they had passed on their way to Bowl- 
ing Green. 

Eeturning with the captair for a guide, the worn-out com- 
mand halted at Garrett's gate, at two o'clock on the morning 
of the 26th. Without noise the house was surrounded, and 
Baker went up to the kitchen door, on the side, and rapped. 
An old man, in half undress, undrew the bolts, and had 
scarcely opened the door before Baker had him by the 
throat, with a pistol at his ear, and asked, " Where are the 
men who stay with you ?" Under the menace of instant 
death, the old man seemed paralyzed, but at Baker's order lit 
a candle. The question was then repeated. " They are 
gone," replied the old man. Soon a young boy appeared, 
and told Baker the men he sought were in the barn. The 
barn was then surrounded. Baker and Conger went to the 
door. The former called out, signifying his intention to 



4-iS FLIGHT. CAPTURE, AND DEATH CF BOOTH. 



have a surrender oil the part of the men inside, or else to fire 
the barn, and shoot thera on the spot. The young boy was 
sent in to receive their arms. To the boy's appeal, Booth 
answered with a curse, accusing the boy of having betrayed 
him. The boy then came out, and Baker repeated his 
demand, giving Booth five minutes to make up his mind. 
Booth replied : — 

" TV"ho are you, and what do you want with us ?" 

" T*Te want you to deliver up your arms and become our 
prisoners," said Baker. 

''But who are you ?" 

u That makes no difference. "We know who you are, and 
we want you. TTe have here fifty men with carb-ues and 
pistols. You cannot escape." 

After a pause, Booth said : u Captain, this is a hard case, I 
swear. Perhaps I am being taken by my own friends " He 
then asked time to consider, which was granted. After a 
little interval, Baker threatened to fire the barn, if they did 
not come out. Booth replied that he was a cripple, and 
begged a chance for his life, declaring that he would fight 
them all at so many yards' space, and that he would never be 
taken alive. Baker replied that he did not come there to fight, 
but to capture him, and again threatened to fire the barn. 

"Well, then, my brave boys," said Booth, "prepare a 
stretcher for me." 

Harold now wanted to surrender, and, in the midst of a 
shower of imprecations from Booth, did so. Conger then 
set fire to the barn. 

The blaze lit up the black recesses of the great barn till 
every wasp's nest and cobweb in the roof was luminous, 
flinging streaks of red and violet across the tumbled farm 
gear in the corner, and bathed the murderer's retreat in a 



FLIGHT, CAPTURE, AND DEATH OF BOOTH. 449 



rivid illumination, and while in bold outline his figure stood 
Tevealed, they rose like an impenetrable wall, to guard from 
sight the dreaded enemy who lit them. Behind the blaze, 
with his eye to a crack, Conger saw Wilkes Booth stand- 
ing upright upon a crutch. He likens him, at this instant, 
to his eminent brother, Edwin, whom he says he so much 
resembled that he half believed, for the moment, the whole 
pursuit to have been a mistake. At the gleam of fire, Wilkes 
dropped his crutch and carbine, and on both hands crept up 
to the spot to espy the incendiary and shoot him dead. His 
eyes were lustrous like fever, and swelled and rolled in 
terrible anxiety, while his teeth were fixed, and he wore the 
expression of one in the calmness before frenzy. In vain he 
peered with vengeance in his look : the blaze that made him 
visible, concealed his enemy. A second he turned glaring 
at the fire, as if to leap upon and extinguish it, but the flames 
had made such headway that this was a futile impulse, and 
he dismissed it. As calmly as upon the battle-field a veteran 
stands amidst the hail of ball and shell and plunging iron, 
Booth turned at a man's stride, and pushed for the door, 
carbine in poise, and the last resolve of death — despair — set 
on his high, bloodless forehead. 

At this instant, Sergeant Boston Corbett fired through a 
crevice and shot Booth in the neck. They then took him 
up and carried him out on the grass, a little way from the 
door, beneath a locust tree. Conger went back to the barn, 
to see if the fire could be put out, but found it could not, and 
returned to were Booth was lying. Before this (says Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Conger), I supposed him to be dead ; he had 
all the appearance of a dead man ; but when I came back his 
eyes and mouth were moving. I called immediately for 

water and put some on his face He seemed to revive, and 
29 



450 FLIGHT, CAPTURE, AND DEATH OF BOOTH. 



attempted to speak. I put my ear down to his mouth, and 
heard him say, " Tell my mother I died for my country." I 
repeated the words to him and said, " Is that what you would 
say ?" He said, " Yes." They carried him to the porch of 
Garrett's house, and laid him on a straw bed or tick. At 
that time he revived considerably, and could talk in a 
whisper so as to be intelligibly understood. He could not 
speak above a whisper. He wanted water ; I gave it to him. 
He wanted to turn on his face ; I said he couldn't lie on his 
face. He wanted to be turned on his side ; we turned him 
on his side three times, but he could not lie with any com- 
fort, and asked immeoiately to be turned back. He asked 
me to put my hand on his throat, and press down, which I 
did. He said "Harder," I pressed* as hard as I thought 
necessary. He made a very strong exertion to cough, but 
was unable to do so. I suppose he thought there was blood 
in his throat. 1 asked him to put out his tongue, which he 
did. I said, "There is no blood in your throat." He re- 
peated several times — two or three times at least — " Kill me I 
kill me !" I replied, " I do not want to kill you. I want 
you to get well." 

When the doctor, whom Conger had sent for, arrived, 
Booth asked to have his hands raised and shown him. When 
this was done, he muttered "Useless, useless!" These were 
his last words. He died about four hours after he was shot. 

Booth and Harold were dressed in rebel gray uniform. 
Booth's mustache had been cut off, apparently with scissors, 
and his beard allowed to grow, thus changing his appear- 
ance considerably. His hair had been cut somewhat shorter 
than he usually wore it. Being taken to Washington, a 
post-mortem examination of the remains took place on board 
the monitor Montauk, the body being laid out on a carpen- 



THE BALLAD OF ISHMAEL DAY. 



451 



ter's bench between the stern and turret. The shot which 
terminated his life entered on the left side, at the back of the 
neck, a point not far different from that in which his victim, 
the lamented President, was shot. 

On the night of the 27th of April, a small row-boat 
received the remains of the assassin, and no one save two 
men — sworn to irrevocable secrecy — it is said, knows the 
place or manner of his sepulture. 

The capture and solemn trial of the other accomplices and 
conspirators in the great crime of simultaneously murdering 
the President, Yice-President, Secretary of State, Secretary 
of War, and Lieutenant-General Grant — viz. : the Surratts, 
mother and son, Payne, Atzerodt, Harold, O'Loughlin, 
Arnold, etc. — constitute the remainder of this darkest chap- 
ter in the annals of human crime. Four of these expiated 
their crime on the gallows, and the blood of the martyred 
President was avenged. 



THE BALLAD OP ISHMAEL DAY. 

One summer morning a daring band 

Of rebels rode into Maryland, 

Over the prosperous peaceful farms, 

Sending terror and strange alarms, 

The clatter of hoofs and the clang of arms. 

Fresh from the South, where the hungry pine, 
They ate like Pharaoh's starving kine; 

They swept the land like devouring surge, 
And left their path, to its furthest verge, 
Bare as the track of the locust-scourge. 



452 



THE BALLAD OF ISHMAEL DAY. 



" The rebels are coming," far and near 
Rang the tidings of dread and fear ; 

Some paled, and cowered, and sought to hide; 

Some stood erect in their fearless pride ; 

And women shuddered, and children criod. 

But others — vipers in human form, 
Stinging the bosom that kept them warm — 
Welcomed with triumph the thievish band, 
Hurried to offer the friendly hand 
As the rebels rode into Maryland, — 

Made them merry with food and wine, 
Clad them in garments rich and fine, — 
For rags and hunger to make amends, — 
Flattered them, praised them with selfish ends s 
" Leave us scathless, for we are friends !" 

Could traitors trust a traitor ? No ! 

Little they favored friend or foe, 

But gathered the cattle the farms across, 
Flinging back, with a scornful toss — 
w If ye are friends, ye can bear the loss I" 

Flushed with triumph, and wine, and prey, 
They neared the dwelling of Ishmael Day, 
A sturdy veteran, gray and old, 
With heart of a patriot, firm and bold, 
Strong and steadfast — unbribed, unsold. 

And Ishmael Day, his brave head bare, 
His white locks tossed by the morning air, 
Fearless of danger, or death, or scars, 
Went out to raise, by the farm-yard bars, 
The dear old flag of the Stripes and Stars. 



THE BALLAD OF ISHMAEL DAT. 



453 



Proudly, steadily, up it flew, 

Gorgeous with crimson, and white, and blue : 
His withered hand, as he shook it freer, 
May have trembled, but not with fear, 
While, shouting, the rebels drew more near. 

u Halt /" They had seen the hated sign 
Floating free from old Ishmael's line — 

" Lower that rag !" was their wrathful cry. 

" Never !" rung Ishmael Day's reply ; 

" Fire, if it please you — I can but die !" 

One with, a loud, defiant laugh, 

Left his comrades, and neared the staff. 

11 Down /" — came the fearless patriot's cry — 

" Dare to lower that flag, and die ! 

One must bleed for it — you or I !" 

But caring not for the stern command, 

He drew the halliards with daring hand ; 
Ping ! went the rifle-ball — down he came 
Under the flag he had tried to shame — 
Old Ishmael Day took careful aim ! 

Seventy winters and three had shed 
Their snowy glories on Ishmael's head ; 

But though cheeks may wither, and locks grow 

g™y, 

His fame shall be fresh, and young alway — 
Ho lor be to old Ishmael Day I 



PART IV 

THE BLUE COATS AFLOAT 



HOW A BLOCKADE BUNNEK WAS CAUGHT. 

The following is a highly interesting account of a shrewd 
trick by which a blockade-running steamer was trapped in 
her voyage from Nassau toward Charleston : — 

The harbor was crammed with craft of all sorts and sizes ; 
the bay was full of shipping ; the little streets were crowded, 
and there was a continual stir and turmoil on the quay, all 
too small for the press of traffic that daily poured in. All 
this animation, all this activity, had been caused by the 
Federal blockade of the southern coast ; and the cheerful faces 
of the burghers attested the fact that Nassau was the great 
emporium for contraband of war and smuggled cotton, and 
that much money was being spent in the island by those 
employed in this gainful but perilous commerce. Wherever 
I went, in tavern, grocery, store, or counting-house, there was 
but one all-engrossing topic, one common subject of interest—^ 



14 



the blockade. Such and such a schooner had been taken 



454 



HOW A BLOCKADE RUNNER WAS CAUGHT. 455 



such a brig had been burned, cargo and all, to keep her out 
of Yankee hands ; such a droger had come in with cotton ; 
such a steamer had got safe to Charleston, with so many 
thousand stands of arms on board. The Black-Eyed Susan 
had been sunk by the United States gunboat Sloper — no, 
she had only received four round shot in her hull, and had 
escaped among the sand-keys. Who had insured the Delight ? 
They would lose smartly, for the vessel had been condemned, 
whereas the Fly-by-Night had got into Charleston securely, 
and her freight of Blakely guns was worth twenty-three 
thousand dollars, net profit. 

All this gambling and venturing, this staking of fortunes 
on the speed of a vessel, or the wariness of a captain, was 
thrillingly exciting to the brokers, merchants, and other 
speculators who swarmed in the Nassau boarding-houses, and 
who had only a pecuniary interest in the game. And I per- 
ceived that the risks nearly balanced the favorable chances ; 
that if many escaped, many were taken ; and the loss of a 
ship was philosophically borne by her owners. 

At last he found a steamer about to sail. " When do you 
start ?" he asked tue captain. 

The commander's voice sunk to a whisper as he told me 
that at sunset evexy landsman must come on board, taking 
boat at some secluded jetty, to avoid prying eyes, and using 
all reasonable caution, since Nassau teemed with northern 
spies. Half an hour after sundown he was to hoist a signal, 
which was to be replied to ; and then the pilot would come 
off, and the steamer would stand out to sea. 

* 'After dark," muttered Pritchard, with an oath, "we may 
hope to get past that Yankee thief that hangs about the 
island. The governor K de her keep at the distance of one 
marine league but she's always sneaking in — now for coal 



456 HOW A BLOCKADE RUNNER WAS CAUGHT. 



now for bread, now because her engine's out of order ; and 
the United States consul communicates with her every day. 
I tell you, shipmate, there isn't one of us that isn't dogged 
up and down by rascals in Federal hire. See there ! that 
mulatto hound has been after me these four days," pointing 
to a dark complexioned fellow in the dress of a stevedore 
who, on seeing himself observed, as he stood under the gera- 
nium hedge, lay down with well-feigned nonchalance, and lit 
his pipe. ****** 

I found a great deal of quiet bustle and suppressed excite- 
ment on board the Bonny -bell. The fires were banked up ; 
the swarthy faces and red shirts of the engineer and his gang 
wore visible at the hatch of their Cyclopean den, getting a 
breath of the cool breeze before starting. Some brass guns, 
that had been hidden under fruit baskets, hencoops and tar- 
paulins, were visible enough now ; and beside them lay piled 
little heaps of round shot. The crew bustled to and fro, and 
the captain was so busy that he could but return a brief word 
and a nod to my greeting. The sky grew darker, and sur- 
rounding objects dimmer every instant. 

Before long the passengers arrived. Several southern gen- 
tlemen, a few ladies and children, all making their way back 
from Europe to their homes in Carolina or Virginia by this 
dangerous route, and all in peril of harsh imprisonment at 
least, in the event of capture. By the uncertain light I could 
see thai most of them were pale and nervous; but they talked 
in an undertone among themselves, and did not appear anx- 
ious to enter into conversation with strangers. 

"Get up steam!" 

By the time the hoarse roar of the escaping vapor grew 
loud and menacing, there was a fresh bustle on deck, and 1 
heard the captain give orders to "stand by" for slipping 



HOW A BLOCKADE RUNNER WAS CAUGHT. 457 



from the moorings, and to hoist the signal, as we only waited 
for the pilot. 

" There they are, slick and right — three red lights and a 
green one !" murmured a tall Virginian at my elbow ; and 
looking up, I saw the colored lamps glimmer from the mast- 
head. Instantly they were answered bv a similar signal 
from some window on shore. 

" We'll soon see the pilot now," s^id Pritchard, rubbing 
his hands in a cheery manner ; " the signal's made and 
repeated. In ten minutes our man will be with us. Hilloa I 
— boat ahoy ! — what dy'e want?" 

" Bonny-bell ahoy !" was the rejoinder, in a shrill, harsh 
voice, cautiously lowered for the occasion ; " pilot wants to 
come on board." 

There was a stir, and a start of surprise among those on 
deck, and as a rope was thrown to the boatmen, Captain 
Pritchard bent over the side, exclaiming : 

"You're uncommon quick, my hearty. If you've come 
from shore since the lights were hoisted, you must be own 
cousin to the Flying Dutchman. Are you sure you're our 
pilot?" 

"I'm the pilot engaged by Colonel Jeremy Carter, of 
Spottsylvania, if that'll do," answered a very tall, bony, 
black-haired man, as he actively ascended the side. " Zack 
Foster's my name, and I know every inch about Charleston, 
where I was raised." 

While the captain, reassured by the mention of Colonel 
Carter's name — gave hasty orders to cast off the cable and go 
ahead, I in common with the rest of the passengers and the 
unoccupied portion of the crew, looked with much interest at 
the new oomer. The latter was about forty years of age long 
and lean of figure, with a hardy, sunbrowned face. Thei e 



458 



HOW A BLOCKADE RUNNER WAS CAUGHT 



was no mistaking the resolute air and daring of the man; his 
mouth was as firm as iron, though a little dry humor seemed 
to lurk about his dps ; and I hardly liked the expression of 
his half-shut eyes, which had a lazy cunning in their dark 
glance. Still, though dressed in a black suit of shore-going 
clothes, and a swallow-tailed coat of antiquated cut, there 
was something about Mr. Zack Foster that bespoke the 
thoroughbred seaman. He took no share in the proceed- 
ings, for his duty did not begin till we were clear of Nassau 
roadstead; but yet he seemed impatient for the start, gnawing 
viciously at his quid, and drumming on the taffrail with a 
finger that seemed as hard and brown as bronze. 

It was an anxious time when the Bonny-bell, under a full 
head of steam, went darting out of the bay; her look-outs 
straining their eyes to pierce the mist, and give warning to 
the helmsman of vessels ahead ; while Pritchard walked to 
and fro, too fidgety and eager to endure conversation, listen- 
ing every instant for some sound that was to indicate that 
the Federal cruiser had taken the alarm. But on we went, 
without check or hindrance; and we all drew our breath 
more freely as the lights of the town began one by one to 
vanish, as if the sea had swallowed them, and the dark head- 
lands faded away into obscurity. The American gunboat 
was neither seen nor felt, a circumstance which I did not the 
less regret, because I perceived, not only by the display of 
the cannon alluded to, but by the resolute demeanor of 
several of the crew, who stood grouped about a couple of 
uncovered arm-chests, that our pigmy foe would not have 
found an entirely unresisting prize. 

One slight circumstance, hardly, as I thought, worth 
mentioning, did occur before we had run half a mile to sea- 
ward. There came a long, faint hail, from so great a dis- 



HOW A BLOCKADE RUNAER WAS CAUGHT. 459 



tance as to be hardly distinguishable even by a sailor's 
practised ear, but which was announced to be addressed to 
us. 

"Some boat, with a message, perhaps, for a passenger. 
The lubbers deserve rope's-ending for being so late. Can I 
lie-to safely, do you think?" sa:.d Pritchard to the pilot, 
irresolutely, and giving the word, " Slacken speed I" What 
the pilot answered, I know not. I only caught the conclud- 
ing phrase : 

"Yankee tricks; so, cap, you'd best look sharp about 

you." 

So Pritchard thought. He gave the word to go on at full 
speed, and we heard no more about the matter. 

The run was speedy and pleasant, over a dimpling summer 
sea, with no boisterous behavior on Neptune's part to make 
even the lady passengers uneasy. We saw several vessels, 
, but none of a hostile character ; and the voyage was as 
agreeable and safe hitherto as any yachting excursion in 
holiday waters. We were all disposed to be pleased, and 
the pilot, although a saturnine and morose personage, viewed 
through this rose-colored haze of satisfaction and hope, 
became a popular man on board. Captain Pritchard pro- 
nounced him worth his weight in gold ; for if there were no 
gales or rough seas to thwart our purpose, fogs were rather 
frequent, and here the pilot's intimate acquaintance with the 
rocks, shoals and islands — many of which were not noted 
down in the chart — more than once saved the Bonny-bell 
from an ugly thump upon some hidden obstacle. For an 
American, Zack Foster was singularly silent ; yet there was 
something elephantine about his high forehead and narrow 
dark eyes which suggested shrewdness rather than faculty. 
He did his work, answered when spoken to, but seldom 
addressed any one. 



460 HOW A BLOCKADE RUNNER WAS CAUGHT. 



" Land ho !" sung out the look-out man at the masthead 
and Pritchard and the pilot, who were poring together ovei 
the map close to the binnacle, looked up, while the passen- 
gers edged nearer to hear the news. Pritchard lifted his 
telescope, while Foster went aloft for a better view. 

" Edisto Island, as I said, cap I" hailed the pilot ; " and 
beyond it is the Carolina coast. We're close to home, 
gentlemen and ladies." 

There was a cheer from the little group gathered near the 
helm, but directly afterward came two shrill cries of " Sail 
ho !" 

" Uncle Sam's barkers. We must put out a few miles yet, 
cap," said the pilot, as he leisurely descended the rope-ladder. 
There were many good glasses on board, and we all gazed 
eagerly through them, and with beating hearts we recognized 
the portholes, the grinning cannon, the "star-spangled" flags, 
and warlike display of the Federal blockading squadron, i 
The steamer was put about, and we stood further out, until 
shore and ships were alike lost to view. The disappointment 
of the passengers, who had been granted a mere glimpse of 
the land that to them was home, was considerable ; but none 
could doubt the prudence of delaying our entrance into 
Charleston harbor until night should assist us in eluding the 
hostile war-vessels. There was no going to bed on board 
the Bonny-bell that night ; we all kept to the deck, eagerly 
gazing over the sparkling and phosphorescent sea, glimmer 
ing and glancing with St. Elmo's fires. There was a pale 
young moon — a mere sickle of silver — in the sky ; and ob- 
jects were so faintly discernible that the utmost caution v* as 
necessary. The second mate took the helm, while the first 
mate superintended the almost constant heaving of the lead, 
and the captain and pilot stood on ths forecastle noting the 



HOW A BLOCKADE KUNNER WAS CAUGHT. 461 



replies of the sailor, chanted as they were in a shrill 
monotone, in accordance with old custom. 

" Ten fathoms sheer ! By the deep, nine ! By the mark 
seven P called out the leadsman, from the chains. 

" Water allers does shoal here, cap. I know the channel, 
though, as well as I know my parlor ashore, at Nantucket — 
at Savannah, I mean," said the pilot, with some confusion. 

" By the mark, five !" was the next call. 

Captain Pritchard here grew uneasy. He did not pretend 
to equal the pilot in local knowledge, but he was too good a 
seamen not to take alarm at the abrupt lessening of the 
depth of water. He gave orders to reduce the speed, and we 
moved but slowly on, the lead going as before. 

" Are you sure, Mr. Foster, you are not mistaken ? It 
seems to me the water shoals at the rate of a fathom for 
every hundred yards traversed. We may have missed the 
Swash, left Moultrie to leeward and got into the network of 
sandbanks near. Hilloa ! what's that ahead of us ? Boats, 
as I'm a sinner I" 

At the same moment the pilot thrust his hand rapidly into 
the breast of his coat, drew out something and flung it on the 
deck, where it instantly began to sputter and hiss, and di- 
rectly afterward the lurid glare of a blue light flashed 
through the darkness, showing funnel and rigging, the pale 
faces of the passengers, the narrow channel of fretted water 
and the sandy islets on either bow. Nor was this all, for by 
the ghastly light we could distinguish two dark objects on 
the foamy sea ahead of us — boats full of men, pulling 
swiftly but noiselessly toward us, and no doubt, with muffled 
oars 

*' By the mark, two I Shoal water — we're aground !" cried 
an ill-boding voice, that of the sailor in the chains ; and the 



462 



HOW A BLOCKADE RUNNER TV AS CAUGHT. 



Bonny-bell came suddenly to a check, throwing most of the 
landsmen from their feet, while the ominons scrooping of the 
keel told that the steamer was aground. A loud clamor 
instantly arose, many voices shouting at once in tones of 
inquiry, dismay, or command ; but even above this turmoil 
arose the hurrah of those who manned the boats, and who 
now came dashing up, pulling and cheering like madmen. 

"Treachery! treachery!"' cried several of the passengers 
and crew, pointing to where the pilot stood beside the blue- 
light that his own perfidious hand had kindled, while already 
the man-of-war's men, for such we could not doubt them to 
be, began to scramble on board. 

" The Yankee bloodhounds, sure enough ; but you shall 
not live to share the prize money!" exclaimed Pritchard, 
snatching up a handspike, and aiming a blow at Mr. Zack 
Foster that would have been a lethal stroke, had not that 
astute person swerved aside, receiving the weapon on his left 
shoulder. Our men set up a faint cheer, and a shot was fired, 
luckily without effect. But resistance would have been mad- 
ness, so thickly did the American sailors crowd up our gang- 
way, their pistols and cutlasses ready for the fray, while 
among them were nine or ten marines, well armed with 
musket and bayonet, and who drove toe Benny-bell's crew 
below hatches without anv serious show of rUhrine. The 
Federal lieutenant in command, to do him justice, seemed 
anxious that no needless violence should be used ; and while 
proclaiming the vessel a prize to the boats of the United 
States war-brig Dacotah, he yet restrained the fury of that 
precious s:uide. Mr. Zack Foster, who had recovered from the 
effects of his knock-down blow, drawn a bowie-knife, and 
rushed upon Pritchard, who was struggling in the hands of 
his captors. 



" SWAMP ANGEL" INCIDENT. 



463 



"Grently, sir," said the lieutenant; gently Quartermaster 
Fitch. These caged birds are under Uncle Sam's protection, 
and I cannot allow any ill-usage of my prisoners. Do you 
hear me, sir ?" 

" Quartermaster 1" exclaimed poor Captain Pritchard, as 
his wrists were thrust into the handcuffs. " You don't mean 
that that double-dyed villain, that Judas of a pilot, is a 
Yankee petty officer, after all ! I wish. I'd only guessed the 
truth a few hours back, and — if I swung for it — I'd have 
chucked the spy overboard as I would a mangy puppy !" 

The lieutenant made no answer, but ordered the captain 
and mates to be sent below, and proceeded at once to seize 
the steamer's papers, to place the passengers under arrest, and 
to take steps for getting the Bonny-bell off the sand-bank. 
He then compelled the engineer to set the machinery at 
work, and we ran down, under the skilful pilotage of Mr, 
Fitch, to Edisto island; in which anchorage we came to our 
moorings, under the guns of the Dacotah, and within a short 
distance of several other vessels of the blockading squad- 



" SWAMP ANGEL" INCIDENT. 

Colonel Serrell, of the New York Engineers, had the 
charge of the construction of the " Swamp Angel," at Morris 
Island, S. C, and being of an energetic constitution himself, 
and not afraid to enter swamps, his surprise can be imagined 
when one of his lieutenants, whom he had ordered to take 
twenty men and enter that swamp, said that " he could not 
do it — the mud was too deep." Colonel Serrell ordered him 



164 



A HEARTY PRATER. 



to try. He did so, and the lieutenant returned with his men 
covered with mud, and said : — 

" Colonel, the mud is over my men's heads ; I can't do it." 

The colonel insisted, and told the lieutenant to make a 
requisition for any thing that was necessary for the safe 
passage of the swamp. The lieutenant did make his requisition 
in writing, and on the spot. It was as follows : — 

"I want twenty men, eighteen feet long, to cross a swamp • 
fifteen feet deep." 

The joke was a good one. It secured, however, not a cubit 
to the stature of the lieutenant, but rather his arrest for 
disrespect to his superior. The battery, nevertheless, was 
built with the aid of wheelbarrows and sand. Like Jonah's 
gourd, it sprang up in a night. 



A HEAETY PKAYER. 

A good anecdote is told of a lad on one of the Union 
gunboats. The vessel was just going into action, and our 
soldier was upon his knees, when an officer sneeringly asked 
him if he was afraid ? 

" No, I was praying," was the response. 

" Well, what were you praying for ?" 
Praying," said the soldier, " that the enemy's bullets may 
be distributed the same way as the prize money is, principally 
wnwng the officers." 



PASSAGE OF THE PORT HUDSON BATTERIES. 465 



"GOOD SHOOTING." 

The color-bearer of the tenth Tennessee (Irish) having 
been shot down in the battle of Chickamauga, the colonel 
ordered one of the privates to take the colors. Pat, who was 
loading at the time, replied : " By the holy St. Patrick, 
colonel, there's so much good shooting here, I haven't a 
minute's time to waste fooling with that thing." 



THE PASSAGE OF THE PORT HUDSON 
BATTERIES. 

The rebels had blockaded the Mississippi from the begin- 
ning of the war with their batteries. In the progress of the 
war Farragut had captured the batteries below New Orleans, 
and above as far as Prophet's island, just below Port Hudson, 
and Foote, Davis, and Porter had made a conquest of the 
batteries above Vicksburg, leaving only the Yicksburg, 
Warrenton, and Port Hudson batteries — a distance of two 
hundred and thirty-two miles by the river. Of these, the 
batteries at Port Hudson were, with the exception of those at 
Yicksburg, the most formidable on the river. 

The bluff, rising forty feet above the level of the river, was 
covered with forts for a distance of nearly four miles, con- 
structed upon the most scientific principles of modern military 
art, and armed with the most approved and heaviest ordnance 
which England, seeking the ruin of the republic, could 
furnish the rebels. The river, just at the bend, suddenly 
narrows, and the current, striking upon the west bank, is 
thrown across, running with great velocity, and carrying the 
30 



4G8 PASSAGE OF THE PORT HUDSON BATTERIES' 

channel almost directly under the base of the precipitous 
cliffs. Any vessel attempting the passage would be com- 
pelled to run the gauntlet of a plunging fire from battel ies 
which commanded the range for several miles above and 
below. 

It was proposed, in order that the fleet might be able to 
co-operate with General Grant in the siege of Vicksburg, to 
attack Port Hudson, and, under the fire of the bombardment, 
to attempt to force a passage by several of our gunboats up 
the river. 

To Rear- Admiral Farragut, already renowned for his naval 
victory at Forts St. Philip and Jackson, was assigned the 
work of attacking and passing this formidable river fortress. 
The fleet consisted of the flag-ship "Hartford," a fine sloop- 
of- war, carrying twenty-six guns ; the " Richmond," a vessel 
of the same class and armament ; the side-wheel steamship 
" Mississippi," with twenty-two eight and nine inch guns ; the 
" Monongahela," a smaller steam sloop-of-war, with sixteen 
heavy guns; and the gunboats "Kineo," "Albatross," 
** Sachem," and " Genesee," each carrying three columbiads, 
and two rifled thirty-two pounders, together with six mortar 
boats, intended to assist in the bombardment, but not to 
attempt the passage of the batteries. 

On the morning of the fourteenth of April, the squadron 
having ascended the river from New Orleans, anchored off 
Prophet's island, and the mortar boats took their position, 
and early in the afternoon commenced a vigorous bombard- 
ment of the rebel works. At half-past nine o'clock in the 
evening, a red light from the flag-ship signaled the ships and 
gunboats to weigh anchor. The "Hartford" led, the "Alba- 
tross" being lashed on her starboard side; the "Richmond" 
followed, having the " Genesee" lashed to her ; next came the 




I 



PASSAGE OF THE PORT HUDSON BATTERIES. 467 



w Monongahela" and the " Kineo," while the " Mississippi" 
and the " Sachem" brought up the rear. The mortar boats, 
from their sheltered anchorage, were prepared to renew their 
bombardment with marked effect so soon as it should be 
necessary. 

Signal lights were flashing along the rebel batteries, show- 
ing that they were awake to the movements of the Union 
squadron. Soon the gleam of a fire kindled by the rebels 
was seen, which blazed higher and more brilliant till its 
flashes illumined the whole river opposite the batteries with 
light of day. This immense bonfire was directly in front of 
the most formidable of the fortifications, and every vessel 
ascending the stream would be compelled to pass in the fall 
blaze of its light, exposed to the concentrated fire of the 
heaviest ordnance. Still it was hoped, notwithstanding the 
desperate nature of the enterprise, that a few at least of the 
vessels of the squadron would be able to effect a passage. 

Silently in the darkness the boats steamed along, until a 
rebel field-piece, buried in the foliage of the shore, opened 
fire upon the "Hartford." The challenge thus given was 
promptly accepted, and a broadside volley was returned upon 
the unseen foe. The rebel batteries, protected by strong 
redoubts, extended, as we have mentioned, with small inter- 
vening spaces, a distance of nearly four miles, often rising in 
tier above tier on the ascending bluff. Battery after battery 
immediately opened its fire; the hill-side seemed peopled 
with demons hurling their thunderbolts, while the earth 
trembled beneath the incessant and terrific explosions. And 
now the mortar boats uttered their awful roar, adding to the 
inconceivable sublimity of the scene. An eye-witness thus 
describes the appearance of the mammoth shells rising and 
descending in their majestic curve : — 



468 PASSAGE OF THE PORT HUDSON BATTERIES. 



" Never shall I forget the sight that then met my aston 
ished vision. Shooting upward, at an angle of forty-five 
degrees, with the rapidity of lightning, small globes of golden 
flame were seen sailing through the pure ether — not a steady, 
unfading flame, bat corruscating like the fitful gleam of a 
fire-fly, now visible and anon invisible. Like a flying star 
of the sixth magnitude the terrible missile — a thirteen- 
inch shell — nears its zenith, up, and still up, higher and 
higher. Its flight now becomes much slower, till, on reach- 
ing its utmost altitude, its centrifugal force becoming 
counteracted by the earth's attraction, it describes a parabolic 
curve, and down, down it comes, bursting, it may be, ere it 
reaches terra firma, but probably alighting in the rebel worka 
ere it explodes, where it scatters death and destruction 
around." 

The air was breathing gently from the east, and dense 
volumes of billowy smoke hung over the river, drifting 
slowly across in clouds which the eye could not penetrate, 
and adding greatly to the gloom and sublimity of the scene. 
It strains a ship too much to fire all the guns simultaneously. 
The broadsides were, consequently, generally discharged by 
commencing with the forward gun, and firing each one in 
its turn in the most rapid manner possible — as fast as the 
ticking of a clock. The effect of this bombardment, from 
ship and shore, as described by all who witnessed it, was 
grand and terrific in the extreme. From the innumerable 
batteries, very skilfully manned, shot and shell fell upon 
the ships like hail. Piercing the awful roar, which filled 
the air as with the voice of ten thousand thunders, were heard 
the demoniac shrieks of the shells, as if all the demons of 
pit had broken loose, and were revelling in hideous rage 
through the darkness and the storm. 



PASSAGE OF THE PORT HUDSON BATTERIES. 469 



In the midst of this scene of terror, conflagration, and 
death, as the ships were struggling through the fire against 
the swift current of the Mississippi, there was heard from 
the deck of the "Eichmond," coming up from the dark, 
rushing stream, the cry of a drowning man. " Help ! oh, 
help !" The unhappy sufferer had evidently fallen from th 
" Hartford," which was in advance. In such an hour there 
could not be even an attempt made to rescue him. Again 
and again the agonizing cry pierced the air, the voice grow- 
ing fainter and fainter as the victim floated away in the 
distance, until he sank beneath the turbid waves. 

The whole arena of action, on the land and on the water, 
was soon enveloped in a sulphurous canopy of smoke, pierced 
incessantly by the vivid flashes of the guns. The vessels 
could no longer discern each other or the hostile batteries on 
the shore. It became very difficult to know how to steer : 
and in the impenetrable gloom the only object at which they 
cot Id aim was the flash of the guns, the danger became 
imminent that they might fire into each other. This gave 
the rebels great advantage ; for their stationary guns trained 
upon the river, though they fired into dense darkness, they 
could hardly fire amiss. Occasionally a gust of wind would 
sweep away the smoke, slightly revealing the scene in the 
light of the great bonfire on the bluff. Again the black, 
stifling canopy would settle down, and all was Egyptian 
darkness. 

At one time, just as the " Eichmond" was prepared to pour 
a deadly fire into a supposed battery, whose flash the gunners 
had just perceived, Lieutenant Terry shouted out, "Hold on, 
you are firing into the ' Hartford !' " Another quarter of a 
minute and they would have been pouring a destructive 
broadside into the flagship, which could scarcely have failed 
t* sink hei. 



470 PASSAGE OF THE PORT HUDSON BATTERIES. 

A shell from a rebel battery entered the starboard port of 
the "Richmond," and burst with a terrific explosion directly 
under the gun. One fragment splintered the gun-carriage. 
Another made a deep indentation in the gun itself. Two 
other fragments struck the unfortunate boatswain's mate, 
cutting off both legs at the knee, and one arm at the elbow. 
He soon died, with his last breath saying, " Don't give up the 
ship, lads !" The whole ship reeled under the concussion as 
if tossed by an earthquake. 

The river at Port Hudson, as we have mentioned, makes 
a majestic curve. Rebel cannon were planted along the 
concave brow of the crescent-shaped bluffs of the eastern 
shore, while, beneath the bluff, near the water's edge, there 
was another series of what were called water-batteries lining 
the bank. As the ships entered this curve, following the 
channel, which swept close to the eastern shore, they were, 
one after the other, exposed to the most terrible enfilading fire 
from all the batteries following the line of the curve. This 
was the most desperate point of the conflict ; for here it was 
almost literally fighting muzzle to muzzle. The rebels 
discharged an incessant cross-fire of grape and canister, to 
which the heroic squadron replied with double-shotted guns. 
Never did ships pass a more fiery ordeal. 

Lieutenant-Commander Cummings, the executive officer 
of the " Richmond," was standing with his speaking-trumpet 
in his hand, cheering the men, with Captain Allen by his 
side, when there was a simultaneous flash and roar, and a 
storm of shot came crashing through the bulwarks frc-rn a 
rebel battery, which they could almost touch with their 
ramrods. Both of the officers fell as if struck by lightning. 
The captain was simply knocked down by the windage, and 
escaped unharmed. The speaking-trumpet, in Commander 



PASSAGE OF THE PORT HUDSON BATTERIES. 471 

Cummings' hand, was battered flat, and his leg was torn off 
just below the knee. 

As he fell heavily upon the deck, in his gushing blood, 
he exclaimed : — 

"Put a tourniquet on my leg, boys. Send my letters to 
my wife. Tell her that fell in doing my duty !" 

As they took him below, and into the surgeon's room, 
already filled with the wounded, he looked around upon the 
unfortunate group, and said : — 

" If there are any here hurt worse than I am, let them be 
attended to first." 

His shattered limb was immediately amputated. Soon 
alter, as he lay upon his couch, exhausted by the operation 
and faint from the loss of blood, he heard the noise of the 
escape of steam as a rebel shot penetrated the boiler. In- 
quiring the cause, and learning that the ship had become 
disabled, he exclaimed with fervor : 

" I would willingly give my other leg if we could but pass 
those batteries !'' 

A few days after this Christian hero died of his wound. 

Just above the batteries were several rebel gunboats. 
They did not venture into the melee, but anxiously watched 
the fight, until, apprehensive that some of our ships might 
pass, they put on all steam and ran up the river as fast as 
their web feet could carry them. But now denser and blacker 
grew the dark billows of smoke. It seemed impossible, if 
the steamers mov^ed, to avoid running into each other or upon 
the shore. An officer of each ship placed himself at the 
prow, striving to penetrate the gloom. A line of men passed 
from him to the stern, along whom, even through the thun- 
ders of the battle, directions could be transmitted to the 
helmsman. Should any of the ships touch the ground be- 



472 PASSAGE OE THE PORT HUDSON BATTERIES. 

ueath the fire of such batteries their destruction would be 
almost sure. 

It was a little after eleven o'clock at night when the first 
shot had been fired. For an hour and a half the unequal 
conflict had raged. The flag-ship " Hartford" and the " Al- 
batross" succeeded in forcing their way above the batteries, 
and in thus gaining the all-important object of their enter- 
prise. The "Bichmond" following, had just passed the 
principal batteries when a shot penetrated her steam-chest, 
so effectually disabling her for the hour that she dropped, 
almost helpless, down the stream. The " Genesee," which 
was alongside, unable to stem the rapid current of the river, 
with the massive "Bichmond" in tow, bore her back to 
Prophet's island. Just as the " Bichmond" turned a torpedo 
exploded under her stern, thowing up the water mast-head 
high and causing the gallant ship to quiver in every timber. 

The " Monongahela" and " Kineo" came next in line of 
battle. The commander of the "Monongahela," Captain 
M'Kinstry, was struck down early in the conflict. The com- 
mand then devolved on a gallant young officer, Lieutenant 
Thomas. He manfully endeavored through all the storm of 
battle to follow the flag-ship. But in the dense smoke the 
pilot lost the channel. The ship grounded directly under 
the fire of one of the principal rebel batteries. For twenty- 
five minutes she remained in that perilous position, swept by 
shot and shell. Finally, through the efforts of her consort, 
the " Kineo," she was floated, and again heroically commenced 
steaming up the river. But her enginery soon became so 
disabled under the relentless fire, that the " Monongahela" 
was also compelled to drop down with the Kineo" to the 
position of the mortar fleet. Her loss was six killed and 
twenty wounded. 



PASSAGE OF THE PORT HUDSON BATTERIES. 473 



In obedience to the order of Admiral Farragut, the mag- 
, ificent ship "Mississippi" brought up the rear, with the 
g vinboat " Sachem" as her ally, bound to her larboard side. 
She had reached the point directly opposite the town, and 
her officers were congratulating themselves that they had 
surmouted the greatest dangers, and that they would soon be 
above the batteries, when the ship, which had just then been 
put under rapid headway, grounded on the west bank of the 
river. It was an awful moment ; for the guns of countless 
batteries were immediately concentrated upon her. Captain 
Smith, while, with his efficient engineer Rutherford, he made 
the most strenuous exertions to get the ship afloat, ordered 
his gunners to keep up their fire with the utmost possible 
rapidity. In the short space of thirty-five minutes they fired 
two hundred and fifty shots. The principal battery of the 
foe was within five hundred yards of the crippled ship, and 
the majestic fabric was soon riddled through and through by 
the storm with which she was so pitilessly pelted. The dead 
and the wounded strewed the decks, and it was soon evident 
that the ship could not be saved. 

Captain Smith prepared to destroy the ship, that it might 
not fall into the hands of the rebels, and to save the crew. 
Captain Caldwell, of the iron-clad " Essex," hastened to his 
rescue. Under as murderous a fire as mortals were ever ex- 
posed to, the sick and wounded were conveyed on board the 
ram. Combustibles were placed in the fore and after part of 
the ship, to w r hich the torch was to be applied so soon as the 
crew had all escaped to the western shore. By some misun- 
derstanding she was fired forward before the order was given. 
This caused a panic, as th^re were but three small boats by 
which they could escape. Some plunged into the river and 
were drowned. It is relavjd, in evidence of the coolness of 



4-74 PASSAGE OF THE PORT HUDSON BATTERIES. 

Captain Smith, that in the midst of this awful scene, while 
lighting his cigar with steel and flint, he remarked to Lien- 
tenant Dewey : 

" It is not likely that we shall escape, and we must make 
every preparation to secure the destruction of the ship." 

After spiking nearly every gun with his own hands, and 
seeing that the survivors of his crew were fairly clear of the 
wreck, Captain Smith, accompanied by Lieutenant Dewey, 
Ensign Bach elder, and Engineer Tower, sadly took their 
leave, abandoning the proud fabric to the flames. Scarcely 
had they left, when two shells came crashing through the 
sides of the " Mississippi," overturning, scattering, and en- 
kindling into flame some casks of turpentine. The ship was 
almost instantly enveloped in billows of fire. A yell of ex- 
ultation rose from the rebels as they beheld the bursting forth 
of the flames. The ship, lightened by the removal of three 
hundred men, and by the consuming power of the fire, 
floated from the sand bar and commenced floating, bow on, 
down the river. 

The scene presented was indeed magnificent. The whole 
fabric was enveloped in flame. "Wreathing serpents of fire 
twined around the masts and ran up the shrouds. Drifting 
rapidly downward on the rapid current, the meteor, like a 
volcanic mountain in eruption, descended as regularly along 
the western banks of the stream as if steered by the most 
accomplished helmsman. As the ship turned round, in 
floating off, the guns of her port battery, which had not been 
discharged, faced the foe. As the fire reached them the noble 
frigate, with the stars and stripes still floating at her peak, 
opened a new bombardment of the rebel batteries. The 
shells began to explode, scattering through the air in all di- 
rections. The flaming vision arrested every eye, on the land 



RUNNING THE BATTERIES AT VICKSBURG. 



475 



and on the ships, until the floating mountain of fire drifted 
down and disappeared behind Prophet's island. And now 
came the explosion of the magazine. There was a yivid 
flash, shooting upward to the sky in the form of an inverted 
cone. For a moment the whole horizon seemed ablaze with 
fiery missiles. Then came booming over the waves a peal 
of heaviest thunder. The very hills shook beneath the 
awful explosion. This was the dying cry of the " Missis- 
sippi'' as she sank to her burial beneath the waves of the 
river from which she received her name. 

Captain Caldwell, of the " Essex," who, as soon as he saw 
the " Mississippi," to be on fire, gallantly steamed to her aid, 
directly under the concentrated fire of the batteries, suc- 
ceeded in picking up many who were struggling in the 
waves, and in rescuing others who had escaped to the shore. 
There were about three hundred men on board the "Missis- 
sippi." Of these sixty-five officers and men were either 
killed, wounded, or taken prisoners. Seventy, who escaped 
to the shore, wandered, for many miles, down the western 
banks of the stream, in constant danger of being taking cap- 
tive, wading the bayous, and encountering fearful hardships, 
until they finally reached the ships below. Two ships, the 
" Hartford" and the " Albatross," succeeded in running the 
gauntlet. 



RUNNING THE BATTERIES AT VICKSBURG- . 

The fate of the " Mississippi," in her attempt to pass the 
batteries at Port Hudson, might well have appalled the stout- 
est heart ; but, in war, necessity is stronger than law — 
stronger than human suffering, or than any obstacle which 



176 RUNNING THE BATTERIES AT YICKSBURG. 



may oppose its action. It was necessary for General Grant, 
while marching his troops overland on the west side of the 
Mississippi, toward the point from which he intended to cross 
and attack Vicksburg from the south and east, to have trans- 
ports and gunboats below the Vicksburg and Warrenton bat- 
teries to bring supplies and ferry his troops across the Missis- 
sippi, as well as to attack the Warrenton batteries from below. 

On consultation with Admiral Porter, that brave officer 
proposed to send down eight gunboats, three transports, and 
a number of barges and flat boats, laden with commissary 
supplies, past the batteries to New Carthage. Tbese were 
all manned by volunteers, who were not deterred by the 
previous misfortunes of Farragut's squadron from under- 
taking this perilous expedition. 

The former attempts at running the Vicksburg batteries 
had been made shortly before, or at daylight ; this time a 
change was resolved upon. Eleven o'clock at night was 
appointed as the hour at which the boats should leave their 
rendezvous, which was near the mouth of the Yazoo river. To 
the anxious expectants of the coming events, the hours stole 
slowly by. As the appointed moment drew near, the decks of 
the various steamboats were crowded with watchful spectators. 

A sort of apprehensive shudder ran through the collected 
gazers when it was announced that the first boat destined to 
pass the batteries was approaching. Sombre and silent it 
floated down, near the Louisiana shore; scarcely were its 
dark sides to be distinguished from the foliage lining the 
bank. Stealing slowly on, it passed the group of steamers, 
and at a point below took an oblique course, steering for the 
Mississippi side of the river ; and, in the gloom, it was soon 
confounded with the dark shadow of the trees beyond. 

Before this boat was Jost sight of, another succeeded, and 



RUNNING THE BATTERIES AT VICKSBURG. 477 



to that another, and another, until, before midnight, the 
whole had gained the Mississippi side of the river, and were 
swallowed up in the dim obscurity. With breathless interest 
their transit was watched by all of those on the boats of the 
fleet, whose position, a little above the entrance of the first 
canal, brought the rough heights of Vicksburg within their 
sphere of vision, though the town lay, for the present, buried 
in the darkness except where now and then the twinkling of 
a starry light was seen. 

As the boats, with lights out and fires carefully hidden, 
floated past, indistinct as the ghost of Ossian in the mountain 
mists, it was curious to note the effect upon the spectators. 
Before they appeared, the hum of conversation was heard 
all around. All were busy with speculations as to the 
probabilities of success. The desponding prognosticated 
unmitigated disaster. The hopeful indulged in confident 
speculations. All were contented to endure some loss, 
provided a sufficiency arrived at the destined point to ac- 
complish the object contemplated. 

As the various boats came slowly into view, stole past 
with noiseless motion, then vanished into the recesses of the 
shadowy shore, each voice was hushed ; only in subdued and 
smothered tones were persons, at intervals, heard to ask a 
question or venture an observation. It seemed as if each 
one felt that his silence- was due to the impressive scene ; as 
if an indiscreet utterance on his part might raise the vail of 
secresy, so necessary to be preserved in the presence of a 
watchful foe. 

A painful expectation weighed on every spirit. The boats 
must now be near the point opposite the beleaguered city. 
Will they be discovered at the first approach, or will a 
kindly fortune give them easy passage by? Suddenly a 



478 RUNNING THE BATTERIES AT YICKSBURG. 



flame starts up ! Another and another leaps into the dark- 
ness of the night ! The enemy has seen the passing boats, 
and is sending across the river his death-dealing messengers. 
Rapid now dart the momentary fires ; the iron rain of the 
remorseless cannon hurtles upon the dim and gliding boats. 
Dull upon the heavy air, scarce nerved by the night wind, 
which blows in a direction unfavorable for their hearing, 
reverberates the heavy thud of the cannon. 

As the time passes, the batteries lower and still lower 
come into action. The gazers can trace the course of the 
fleet by new flames, that each moment startle the strained 
sight ; and cannon, for miles along the hazy shore, are hurl- 
ing their destructive missiles. A new accessory now adds 
its influence to the exciting scene. While the spectators had 
been engaged in watching the vivid flames leaping from 
cannon mouths and exploding shells, a gleam of light, first 
pale and soft, then red and lurid, and at last glaring and 
refulgent, stole up into the heavens above the opposing city. 
For the first time the silence was broken by the gazing 
crowds upon the steamboats of the fleet. "Vicksburg is on 
fire!" was uttered in excited tones. But it was not so. 
Steady and with wonderful brilliancy, upon the hill on 
which the city stands, the fire assumed a circular outline on 
the upper edge, much like a third part of the full moon when, 
apparently magnified, it is rising above the horizon. The 
flame glowed brilliant and beautiful — no smoke was visible 
to dim its splendor. It was a beacon light, placed in a posi- 
tion to throw its beams along each arm of the bend of the 
river, the convex side of which is turned toward Vicksburg. 
So powerful was the light that, at the point where the steam- 
boat fleet was moored, the shadow of a hand, held a foot 
from the boat's side, was distinctly thrown upon it. This 



RUNNING THE BATTERIES AT VICKSBURG. 479 



b- aeon, with treacherous fidelity, showed to the foe the now 
fa*$ disappearing boats; but happily, it was fired too late. 
Tf?e sight of the boats appeared to add new rage to the 
enemy, who could not fail to count the cost to him of such 
a fleet joining Farragut's three gunboats already between 
Yicksburg and Port Hudson. The firing became more 
rapid. From the upper batteries to the last ones down at 
Warrenton, leaped flame on flame. The dull echo of the 
cannon, and the whirr and shriek of the flying shells, startled 
the .mdnight air. But now comes a roar which tells that the 
Union boys are awake and lively ! The light that showed 
the ooats to the enemy, revealed to the gunners on the gun- 
boats the outlines of the batteries, and the roar which deafens 
the ear to every other sound is the peal of their heavy 
pieces. After an interval of the maddest rage, the upper 
guns of the enemy almost cease their fire. It is evident that 
the boats have passed the first reached batteries — all of them 
that have escaped the deadly onset. That no large portion 
of them is missing, is apparent from the activity of the forts 
at Warrenton, and the answering thunders of the Union 
guns. 

By this time the beacon light was burnt down, and ceased 
co render its cruel aid. Just as the gathering darkness and 
the yet longer and larger intervals of silence gave intimation 
that the exciting scene was nearly over, another startling 
incident woke anew the emotions of the time. Midway 
between the extinct beacon in the city and the lower batte- 
ries at Warrenton, a new glow of light, soft as the dawn, but 
rapidly blushing into deeper intensity, climbed gently toward 
the sky. "They are lighting another beacon," shouted many 
voices; but again the speakers were mistaken. The light 
grew stronger every moment ; it wanted tlu mellow, vivid, 



4 80 RUKNING THE BATTERIES AT YTCKSBURG-. 



space-penetrating brilliancy of the beacon; above it rolled 
volumes of thick curling smoke ; and more — the light, with 
slow and equal pace, was moving down the stream ! There 
was no disguising the truth — one of our own boats was on 
fire. The white color of the smoke showed that among the 
fuel to the flame was cotton. The inference was plain; it 
was not a gunboat but a transport that was burning, for the 
latter, alone, were protected by bales of cotton. On floated 
the doomed vessel ; her light doubtless exposed to the rebels* 
view the floating flat-boats and barges ; further firing, espe- 
cially from the Warrenton batteries, was for a short time 
violently renewed. 

The glow of the burning boat continued in sight until the 
beams of morning hid its glare. Before this, moreover, the 
solemn drama had reached its termination. The spectators 
reluctantly retired to their cabins, when nothing remained to 
engage the attention but the flaming wreck and scattering 
shots : — 

" The distant and random gun, 
That the foe was sullenly firing." 

It was not until noon of the next day (April 17, 1863), 
that the account of the fate of the expedition reached the 
Union camp at Young's Point. The eight gunboats reached 
their destination with but slight injuries or loss of life, only 
one man having been killed and two wounded. The trans- 
port, Henry Clay, was burned ; but the other transports, flat- 
boats, etc., made the passage in safety, and the crew of the 
Henry Clay reached the shore and joined some of the other 
boats. A few days later, Admiral Porter sent a second 
squadron of gunboats and transports down, but the trans- 
ports in this expedition were seriously damaged. 



A FRIGHTENED CONTRABAND. 



481 



A FEIGHTENED CONTKABAN.D. 

An army correspondent on the Rappahannock related the 
following : — 

An amusing incident occurred in camp a night or two 
since. A portly young contraband, from Charleston, South 
Carolina, who escaped from his rebel master at Antietam, 
and was for a while quartered subsequently in Washington, 
was engaged by one of our junior staff officers as his body 
servant, and brought down here to his quarters to attend 
him. It chanced that the officer had served his country gai 
lantly at Sharpsburg, where he lost a leg, below the knee, 
the absence of which had been made up by an artificial limb, 
which the captain wore with so easy a grace that few persons 
who met him suspected his misfortune — his sable attendant 
being among the blissfully ignorant as to the existence of 
the fact. 

The captain had been "out to dine," and returned in excel- 
lent spirits to his tent. Upon retiring, he called his darky 
servant to assist him in pulling off his riding boots 

" Now, Jimmy, look sharp," said the captain. " I'm a 
little — ic — flimsy, Jimmy, t'night. Look sharp, an' — ic — 
pull steady." 

"Ise allers keerful, cap'n," says Jimmy, drawing off one 
long, wet boot, with considerable difficulty, and standing it 
aside. 

"Now, mind your eye, Jim! The other — ic — a little 
tight;" and black Jimmy chuckled and showed his shining 
ivories, as he reflected, perhaps, that his master was quite as 
" tight" as he deemed his boot to be. 

"Easy, now — that's it. Pull away !" continued the captain, 
good-naturedly, and enjoying the prospective joke, while he 
31 



482 



THE CUMBERLAND. 



loosened the straps about Lis waist which held his cork leg 
up — " now youVe got it! Yip — iJiere you are! O Lord! 

Lord! Lord!" screamed the captain, as contraband, 
cork-leg. riding-boot, and ligatures tumbled across the tent 
iu a heap, and the one-legged officer fell back on his pallet, 
convulsed with spasmodic laughter. At this momen; the 
door opened and a lieutenant entered. 

(L (x way fum me, g'way fum me — lemmy be ! lemmy be ! 

1 ain't done nuffin," yelled the contraband, lustily, and rush- 
ing to the door, really supposing he had pulled his master's leg 
clean off. " Lemmy go ! I didn't do nuffin— g'way ! gway !" 
And Jimmy put for the woods in his desperation, since which 
he hasn't been seen or heard from, though his captain has 
diligently sought for him far and near. 



THE CUMBERLAND, 

HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 

At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay, 

On board the Cumberland sloop-of-war ; 
And at times from the fortress across the bay 
The alarm of drums swept past, 
Or a bugle blast 
From the camp on shore. 

Then far away to the south uprose 

A little feather of snow-white smoke, 
And we knew that the iron ship of our foes 
Was steadily steering its course, 
To try the force 
Of our ribs of oak. 



THE CUMBERLAND. 



Down upon us heavily runs 

Silent and sullen, the floating fort ; 
Then comes a puff of smoke from her guns. 
And leaps the terrible death, 
With fiery breath, 
From each open port. 

We are not idle, but send her straight 

Defiance back in a full broadside ! 
As hail rebounds from a roof of slate, 
Rebound our heavier hail 
From each iron scale 
Of the monster's hide. 

" Strike your flag !" the rebel cries, 

In his arrogant old plantation strain, 
*' Never !" our gallant Morris replies ; 
" It is better to sink than to yield !" 
And the whole air pealed 
With the cheers of our men. 

Then like a kraken huge and black, 

She crushed our ribs in her iron grasp ! 
Down went the Cumberland all a wrack, 
With a sudden shudder of death, 
And the cannon's breath 
For her dying gasp. 

Next morn, as the sun rose over the bay, 

Still floated our flag at the mainmast-head, 
Lord, how beautiful was Thy day ! 
Every waft of the air 
Was a whisper of prayer, 
Or a dirge for the dead. 



4S-1 



the figet tze 



Ho ! brave hearts that went down in the seas, 

Ye are at peace in the troubled stream, 
Ho ! brave land ! with hearts like these, 
Thy flag that is rent in twain, 
Shall be one again, 
And without a seam. 



THE EIGHT WITH THE "ALBEMARLE." 

Oke of the most remarkable naval conflicts of this or any 
other war — a single-handed encounter between a delicate 
river steamer and a most formidable M iron-clad" — occurred 
on the 5th of May, 1864, in Albemarle Sound, about twentv 
miles below the mouth of the Roanoke river. On the after- 
noon of that day, three side-wheel gunboats, the " Mattabe- 
sett," " Sassacus," and " "Wyalusing," were lying at anchor 
in the sound, awaiting the appearance of the u Albemarle," a 
most formidable rebel iron-clad ram, whose recent exploits 
in sinking two of our gunboats, near Plymouth, rendered 
the prolonged occupation of the sound by our forces some- 
what uncertain and problematical. To the three vessels 
above named had been especially assigned the duty of 
encountering, and, if possible, destroying this dreaded iron 
monster ; and, on the afternoon in question, an advance-guard 
of picket-boats, comprising four or five of the smaller vessrls 
of the Union fleet, with the 11 Miami," had been sent up to 
the mouth of the Roanoke, with the design of decoying the 
rebel " ram" from under the protection of the batteries at 
Plymouth into the open waters of the sound. The ruse suc- 
ceeded, and falling back before the " Albemarle," as she ie:i 



THE FIGHT WITH THE "ALBEMARLE." 485 



bar moorings to pursue them, they quickly drew her into a 
favorable position for attack. Shortly after three, p. M., in 
obedience to signals from the " Mattabesett," the three 
vessels got under way, and forming in line ahead, in the 
order in which their names are above written, proceeded at 
ordinary speed up the sound. At four, p. M., the " Mattabe- 
sett" communicated with the army transport, " Massasoit," 
coming down, and immediately signalled to her consorts, the 
" ram is out." Almost at the same instant, they discovered 
the picket boats falling back slowly before the advancing 
foe ; and beyond them a glistening speck upon the waters, 
with two other dark objects hovering near, which they knew 
to be the ram, accompanied by her consorts. The Union 
vessels were now cleared for action, and every preparation 
was made for a determined struggle with their formidable 
antagonist, toward whom they were driving under full 
steam. The day was charming, the broad expanse of water 
was undisturbed by a ripple, while the sun's beams were 
dazzlingly reflected from the inclined sides of the " Albe- 
marle," till she seemed like a mass of silver, while above 
her waved an unusually large and handsome Confederate 
flag. The rebels were now seen to be communicating by 
boats, and one of their vessels, a white, stern- wheel steamer, 
which was afterwards ascertained to be the " Cotton Plant," 
cntton-chd, and manned by two hundred sharp-shooters and 
boarders, put hastily back to Plymouth. The other steamer, 
which proved to be the "Bombshell," closed up on the 
" ram's" quarter, in readiness for the coming conflict. 

Sweeping gracefully along, under a full head of steam, the 
Union vessels approached, and while the "Mattabesett" 
hauled up abreast of the " Albemarle," the " Miami," some 
distance astern, threw a good but ineffectual shot, to which 



486 THE FIGHT WITH THE " ALBEMARLE " 



the " ram" promptly responded, from guns that were e\ i- 
dently of the heaviest calibre. Almost at the same moment 
the " Mattabesett" delivered her full broadside, at three 
hundred yards' distance, and sweeping round the "ram's" 
stern, ran by the " Bombshell," close aboard, while the latter 
lay in the quarter post of the " ram." The " Sassacus" now 
entered the fight, and the " ram," which had failed to get at 
the " Mattabesett," as she swept by, turned her bow squarely 
for the former, whose pilot, quickly measuring the distance, 
sheered his vessel slightly, and passed some one hundred and 
fifty yards ahead of the " Albemarle," the " Sassacus" deliv- 
ering with precision her whole broadside of solid shot, which, 
however, rebounded from the iron-clad like cork balls. 
Then, sweeping around the stern of the " Albemarle," the 
" Sassacus" paid her attentions to the " Bombshell," by whose 
sharp-shooters she had been considerably annoyed, and poured 
into her hull a full broadside, which brought the rebel ensign 
down, and sent the white flag up in short order. Directing 
her to drop out of fire and anchor, which order was promptly 
executed in good faith, the " Sassacus" turned again to the 
" Albemarle," whom she found hotly engaged by the " Mat- 
tabesett 1 ' and " Wyalusing." The latter was particularly 
attracting the attention of the " ram," which was steaming 
slowly, though using her guns rapidly and with effect, and 
whose whole side was just then most opportunely exposed 
to the " Sassacus," now only some eight hundred yards dis- 
tant. Comprehending, at a glance, the value of the opportu- 
nity thus offered, the gallant captain of the " Sassacus" 
unhesitatingly gave a preconcerted signal, " four bells " 
again and again repeated, to the engineer, and the ship was 
headed straight for what was supposed to be the "ram's," 
weakest part, where the casemate or house joined the hull, 



THE FIGHT WITH THE "ALBEMARLE." 487 



The fires were clear, and with thirty pounds of steam on, 
and throttle wide open, the "Sassacus 1 ' clashed upon her 
adversary under a headway of nine or ten knots, striking 
her a fair, square, right-angled blow, without glance or 
slide ! The iron-clad reeled under the blow, and her black 
hull was forced. under water by the bow of the ' Sassacus," 
till the water flowed over it from' side to side, and it seemed 
as if the monster was sinking. " As we struck her," says 
one of the participants in the fight, "the 'ram' drove a hun- 
dred-pounder Brooke's shot through and through us, from 
starboard bow to port side. Our stem was forced into her 
side, and keeping up our headway, we careened her clown 
beneath our weight, and pushed her like* an inert mass 
beneath our weight, while, in profound silence, our gunners 
were training their heavy ordnance to bear upon our aston- 
ished enemy. Now a muzzle protrudes from the ' ram's' open 
port, and the loaders of our Parrott rifle, standing on the 
slide, served the guns within fifteen feet of that yawning 
cannon's mouth. It was a grand reproduction of the old days 
of ' broadside to broadside,' and ' yard-arm locked to yard ; 
but the immense guns, now grinning defiance across the few 
feet of space which separated them, each one carrying the 
weight of metal of a whole tier of the old time carronades, 
rendered this duel of ponderous ordnance a magnificent and 
imposing spectacle. 

" Still we pushed her broadside-to before us, our engine at 
full speed, pressing our bow deeper and deeper into her 
Still she gave way. * * * It was a grapple for life. A silent 
but fearful struggle for the mastery, relieved only by the 
sharp, scattering volleys of musketry, the whizzing of leaden 
bullets, and the deep, muffled explosion of hand grenades, 
which the brave fellow in our foretop was fbngiag in the 



488 



THE FIGHT WITH THE "ALBEMARLE." 



enemy's hatch, driving back their sharpshooters, and creating 
consternation and dismay among the closely packed crew of 
the iron-clad ; but not until the pilot-house and smoke-stack 
had been spattered all over with the indentation of rifle balls. 
No one had yet fallen. We had thrown shot and shell square 
into her ports from our rifle guns on the hurricane deck, and 
driven volley after volley of musketry through every aper- 
ture in her iron shield, and now our heavy one hundred 
pounder was training for another crushing blow." 

At this juncture, the sharp, false stern of the " Sassacus," 
which had cut deeply into the side of the ram, gave way 
under the pressure, and the two vessels swung around abreast 
of each other, their guns thundering away with simultaneous 
roar. At the same moment a shot from the " Albemarle" 
pierced the boiler of the " Sassacus," and then was heard the 
terrible sound of unloosed, unmanageable steam, rushing in 
tremendous volumes, seething and hissing as it spread, till 
both combatants were enveloped and hidden in the dense, 
suffocating vapor. Now the contest deepened in intensity, it 
was a savage fight for life. The gunners of the " Sassacus" 
felt that their only chance of injuring their antagonist was to 
throw their shots with accuracy into her open ports, and that 
upon their own frail wooden vessel the enemy's every shot 
would tell with terrible effect. Muzzle to muzzle the guns 
were served and fired, the powder from those of the " Albe- 
marle" blackening the bows and side of the "Sassacus-," as 
they passed within ten feet. A solid shot from the latter's 
hundred pounder struck the "Albemarle's" port sill, and crum- 
bled into fragments, one piece rebounding to the deck of the 
" Sassacus," and the rest entering the port-hole and silencing 
the enemy's gun. Through the same opening followed, in 
rapid succession, a nine inch solid shot, and a twenty pounder 



THE FIGHT WITH THE "ALBEMARLE." 



489 



shell, and as the tough-hided " ram" drifted clear, the star- 
board wheel of the "Sassacus" ground over her quarter, 
smashing the launches that she was towing into shapeless 
driftwood, and grating oyer the sharp iron plates with a raw, 
dismal sound. Then, as the " ram" passed the wheel of the 
" Sassacus," the crew of the latter drove solid shot into her 
ports from their after guns — and her armor was rent by a 
solid shot from the P'arrott rifle gun, which, however, had 
received such damage to its elevating screw that it could not 
be depressed so as to fire into the enemy's ports. All this 
cool gunnery and precise artillery practice transpired while 
the ship, from fire room to hurricane deck, was shrouded in 
one dense cloud of fiery steam. The situation was as appall- 
ing as imagination can conceive. The shrieks of the scalded 
and dying sufferers, rushing frantically up from below, the 
shrivelled flesh hanging shred-like from their tortured limbs, 
the engine without control, surging and revolving without 
check or guide, abandoned by all save the heroic engineer, 
who, scalded, blackened, sightless, still stood to his post with 
an indomitable will which no agony of pain could swerve from 
his duty, and whose clear voice, sounding out from amidst 
that mass of unloosed steam and uncontrollable machinery, 
urged his men to return with him into the fire room to drag 
the fires from beneath the uninjured boiler, now in imminent 
danger of explosion. His marvellous fortitude in that hour 
of intense agony, aided by the bravery of his assistants, saved 
the lives of the two hundred persons on board the ship — for, 
as there was no means of instantly cutting off communication 
between the two boilers, and all the steam in both rushed 
out like a flash, the vessel was exposed to the additional 
horror of fire. All this time, in the midst of this thick white 
cloud of stifling vapor, the " Sassacus" moved on, working 



490 THE FIGHT WITH THE a ALBEMARLE." 



slowly ahead on a vacuum alone ; but her guns thundering 
steadily and indomitably against her adversary. At last, the 
cloud of steam lifted from the scene of conflict, and the rebel 
''Albemarle" was seen gladly escaping from the close lock in 
which she had been held, for nearly a quarter of an hour, by 
her slight but stubborn antagonist. Her broad ensign trailed, 
draggled and torn, upon her deck, and she looked far differ- 
ent from the trim, jaunty, and formidable vessel which an 
hour before had defied the slender river craft who had van- 
quished her. The gallant captain of the " Sassacus" could 
not refrain from giving her " another turn," and turning his 
vessel around, with helm " hard-a-port," which she answered 
slowly but steadily, she again passed down by the "Albe- 
marle." The divisions stood at their guns, the captain, 
calmly smoking his cigar, gave his orders with surpassing 
coolness, and directing the movements of his vessel with 
wonderful precision and relentless audacity, kept his guns at 
work, so long as they could be brought to bear upon the 
retiring foe, till the "Sassacus" was carried, by her disabled 
engine, slowly, gracefully, and defiantly out of range. 

Of course, in this hand-to-hand fight between the " Sassa 
cus" and "Albemarle," little aid could be rendered, at close 
quarters, by the former's consorts, as such aid would have 
merely endangered her safety. Yet, the ""Wyalusing," the 
"Mattabesett," and the "Miami" did effective service, as 
opportunity offered, and the little "Whitehead," during the 
fiercest of the fight, steamed alongside of the iron monster, 
and delivered shot after shot from her one hundred pounder 
Parrott gun. The " Commodore Hull" and " Ceres" were 
also gallantly handled, and rendered all the assistance in their 
power. 

But the main brunt of this novel and unequal engagement 



THE FIGHT WITH THE "ALBEMARLE." 401 

fell upon the "Sassacus," an inland light draught river 
steamer. The result, so contrary to all preconceived ideas 
of u iron -clad" invincibility, was eminently gratifying. The 
rebel gunboat "Bombshell," with four rifled guns and a 
large supply of ammunition, was captured, with all her 
officers and crew, and the "Albemarle," which was on her 
way to Newbern to form a junction with the rebel force then 
moving upon that place, was beaten with her own weapons, 
in a fair stand up fight, and driven back with her guns disa- 
bled, her hull terribly shaken, and leaking so badly that she 
was with difficulty kept afloat. Twice, also, had her flag 
been cut down and trailed in the water which swept over 
her deck. Her discomfiture proved to be the saving of 
Newbern, which had already been summoned to surrender 
by the rebel General Palmer, and undoubtedly it prevented 
the whole department of North Carolina from being lost to 
our government. The " Sassacus," although disabled in 
guns, machinery, and hull, and suffering severely in killed, 
wounded, and scalded, was ready, with two months' repair 
to return again to active duty, staunch and strong as ever. 
Her exploit, on the. 5th of May, 1864, justly ranks as one of 
the most remarkable on record, while the skill and coolness 
of her officers, and the indomitable bravery of her c rew, 
rival the heroic traditions of the days of Decatur and 
Commodore John Paul Jones. 



492 THE DESTRUCTION OF THE "ALBEMARLE." 



AN HIBERNIAN'S TUSSLE WITH A "MISSIS 
SIPPI TIGER." 

The dogged, obstinate, and bitter character of the rebeJ 
gulf troops was one of the familiar facts of the war, as the 
following incident which happened near Martinsburg, Vir- 
ginia, will show. A son of Erin captured one of the famous 
" Mississippi Tigers," but while bringing him to the Union 
camp, the " Tiger,' 1 an immense fellow, managed to free him- 
self and run. The plucky Hibernian disdained to use his 
musket, but chased him with the wildest speed. At last 
seizing him, at it they went, in the most logical style of 
rough-and-tumble. The " Tiger," maddened by the stinging 
whacks which the lusty Hibernian dealt, basely bit him, 
nearly severing his thumb. The Celt dropped the soldier 
then; and retaliated in the same way ; finally he conquered 
him after a tremendous whaling, which dislocated his shoul- 
der. The next day he visited the son of the " Repudiation 
State," in the hospital, went up to him, and shaking his well 
arm with a hearty grip, observed, with his " rich Irish 
brogue," "I haven't a bit of a grudge agin ye ; be jabers! ye 
are almost as good as meself." 



THE DESTRUCTION OF THE "ALBEMARLE." 

The rebel iron-clad ram, the "Albemarle," whose contest 1 
with and discomfiture by the " Sassacus," in May, 1864, has 
been previously described in this volume, and which had 
become a formidable obstruction to the occupation of the 
North Carolina sounds by the Union forces, finally met her 



THE DESTRUCTION OF THE " ALBEMARLE." 493 

fate in October of the same year. During the previous 
summer, Lieutenant W. B. Cushing, commanding the 
" Monticello," one of the sixteen vessels engaged in watching 
the " ram," conceived the plan of destroying their antagonist 
by means of a torpedo. Upon submitting the plan to Bear- 
Admiral Lee and the Navy Department, he was detatched 
from his vessel, and sent to New York to provide the articles 
necessary for his purpose, and these preparations having 
been at last completed, he returned again to the scene of 
action. His plan was to affix his newly-contrived torpedo 
apparatus to one of the picket launches — little steamers not 
larger than a seventy-four's launch, but fitted with a compact 
engine, and designed to relieve the seamen of the fatigue of 
pulling about at night on the naval picket line — and of 
which half a dozen had been then recently built under the 
superintendence of Captain Boggs, of "Varuna" fame. 
Under Lieutenant Cushing's supervision, picket launch No. 1 
was supplied with the torpedo — which was carried in a 
basket, fixed to a long arm, which could be propelled, at the x 
important moment, from the vessel, in such a manner as to 
reach the side of the vessel to be destroyed, there to be 
fastened, and exploded at the will of those in the torpedo 
boat, without serious risk to themselves. Having prepared 
his boat, he selected thirteen men, six of whom were officers, 
to assist him in the undertaking. His first attempt to reach 
the "Albemarle" failed, as his boat got aground, and was 
only with difficulty released. On the following night, how- 
ever, he again set out upon his perilous duty, determined 
and destined this time to succeed. Moving cautiously, with 
muffled oars, up the narrow Eoanoke, he skilfully eluded the 
observation of the numerous forts and pickets with which 
that river was lined, and passing within twenty yards of a 



494 THE DESTRUCTION OF THE "ALBEAIARLE." 

picket vessel, without detection, he soon found himself 
abreast of the town of Plymouth. The night was very dark 
and stormy, and having thus cleared the pickets, the launch 
crossed to the other side of the river opposite the town, and 
sweeping round, came down upon the " Albemarle" from up 
the stream. The " ram" was moored near a wharf, and by 
the light of a large camp fire on the shore Cushing saw a 
large force of infantry, and also discerned that the " ram" 
was protected by a boom of pine logs which extended about 
twenty feet from her. The watch on the " Albemarle" knew 
nothing of bis approach till he was close upon them, when 
they hailed, 11 What boat is that ?" And were answered, 
" The 'Albemarle's' boat ;" and the same instant the launch 
struck, " bows on," against the boom of logs, crushing them 
in about ten feet, and running its bows upon them. She was 
immediately greeted with a heavy and incessant infantry fire 
from the shore, while the ports of the " Albemarle" were 
opened, and a gun trained upon the daring party. Cushir.g 
promptly replied with a dose of canister, but the gahant 
young fellow had enough for one man to manage. He had 
a line attached to his engineer's leg, to pull in lieu of bell 
signals ; another line to detach the torpedo, and another to 
explode it ; besides this, he managed the boom which was to 
place the torpedo under the vessel, and fired the howitzer 
with his own hand. But he coolly placed the torpedo in 
its place and exploded it. At the same moment he was 
struck on the right wrist with a musket ball, and a shell from 
the " Albemarle" went crashing through the launch. The 
whole affair was but the work of a few minutes. Each man 
had now to save himself as best he might. Gushing threw 
off his coat and shoes, and leaping into the water struck out 
for the opposite shore ; but the cries of one of his dro aning 



THE DESTRUCTION OF THE "ALBEMARLE." 495 



men attracting the enemy's fire, he turned down the stream. 
The water was exceedingly cold, and his heavy clothing 
rendered it very difficult for him to keep afloat ; and after 
about an hour's swimming he went ashore, and fell ex- 
hausted upon the bank. On coming to his senses, he found 
himself near a sentry and two officers, who were discussing 
the affair, and heard them say that Cushing was dead. Think- 
ing that he had better increase the distance between the rebels 
and himself, he managed to shove himself along on his back, 
by working with his heels against the ground, until he 
reached a place of concealment. 

After dark, he proceeded through the swamp for some 
distance, lacerating his feet and hands with the briars and 
oyster shells. He next day met an old negro whom he 
thought he could trust. The negro was frightened at Cush- 
ing's wild appearance, and tremblingly asked who he was. 
" I am a Yankee," replied Cushing, " and I am one of the 
men who blew up the ' Albemarle.' " " My golly, massa !" 
said the negro, " dey kill you if dey catch you ; you dead 
gone sure !" Cushing asked him if he could trust him to 
go into the town and bring him back the news. The negro 
assented, and Cushing gave him all the money he had and 
sent him off. He then climbed up a tree and opened his 
jack-knife, the only weapon he had, and prepared for any 
attack which might be made. 

After a time the negro came back, and to Cushing's joy, 
reported the " Albemarle" sunk and the people leaving the 
town. Cushing then went further down the river, and found 
a boat on the opposite bank belonging to a picket guard. 
He once more plunged into the chilly river and detached the 
boat, but. not daring to get into it, let it drift down the river, 
keeping himself concealed. At last, thinking he was far 



496 THE DESTRUCTION OF THE "ALBEMARLE." 

euougli away to elude observation, he got into the boat and 
paddled for eight hours until he reached the squadron. After 
hailing them, he fell into the bottom of the boat, utterly ex- 
hausted by hunger, cold, fatigue, and excitement, to the sur- 
prise of the people in the squadron, who were somewhat 
distrustful of him when he first hailed, thinking him a rebel 
who w^as trying some trick. 

Nothing, indeed, but an overruling Providence and an iron 
will ever saved Cushing from death. He saw two of his men 
drown, who were stronger than he, and said of himself, that 
when he paddled his little boat, his arms and his will were 
the only living parts of his organization. 

One man of the party returned on the " Yalley City," 
having been picked up after he had travelled across the 
country and been in the swamps nearly two days. 

But one or two were wounded, and the larger part were 
captured by the rebels, being unable to extricate themselves 
from their perilous position among the logs of the boom, 
under the guns of the " ram." The "Albemarle" had one of 
her bows stove in by the explosion of the torpedo, and sank 
at her moorings within a few moments, without loss of life 
to her crew. Her fate opened the river to the Union forces, 
who quickly occupied Plymouth — the North Carolina sounds 
were again cleared from rebel craft, and the large fleet of 
vessels, which had been occupied in watching the iron-clad, 
were released from, that arduous duty. Lieutenant Cushing, 
to whose intrepidity and skill the country is indebted for 
these results, was engaged in thirty-five fights during the 
war, and, exhausted as he was after this gallant exploit, made 
the journey to his home in western New York, near Dunkirk, 
to vote, being one of those who believe that ballots are as 
important as bullets, in the preservation of the national life 
and liberties. 



A GALLANT TAR. 



491 



HAED TO TELL POEK FEOM TOMATOES. 

While the Brooklyn fourteenth were in Virginia, it was 
noticed that where they were the enemy's pigs got scared, and 
that in the promiscuous state of things thereabouts, an ac- 
cident would sometimes occur by which pig was turned into 
pork, and then — 

"Hallo, my man ! where did you get that pork ?" called 
out the major to a soldier staggering along with something 
wrapped up in his shelter tent, and crimsoning the ground 
as he passed. 

" It isn't pork, sir, it's tomatoes ; you don't know, sir, how 
hard it is to tell pork from tomatoes in this country." 

The major, a pleasant hand at a joke himself, was conquered 
at once, and did not press his inquiries. 



A GALLANT TAE. 

William Eeid, an old sailor and man-of-war's-man, who 
was on board the Owasco, was one of the heroes of the fight 
at Galveston. During the hottest moments of the battle be- 
tween the Owasco and the rebel batteries, this man received 
a severe wound while in the act of loading his rifle. His two 
forefingers on his left hand were shot away, and the surgeon 
ordered him below; but he refused to go, and, tying his 
pocket-hankerchief around his fingers, he remained on deck, 
and did good execution with his rifle. Not more than thirty 
minutes after, another shot struck him in his right shoulder, 
and the blood spirted out through his shirt. Master's Mate 
Arbana then ordered him to go below, and have the surgeon 
32 



498 



AN EASY CAPTURE. 



dress his wounds. The brave old fellow said . "No, sir; as 
long as there is any fighting to be done, I will stay on deck !" 

After the engagement was over, the noble-hearted sailor 
had his wounds dressed and properly attended to. He re~ 
mained on board the Owasco, and whenever they beat to 
general quarters, William Eeid was at his post ready for 
orders. He was told one day by the captain to go below, as 
he was on the sick list, and his place was in the hospital. He 
was displeased with this remark, and replied: "No, captain, 
my eyes are good, and I can pull a lock- string as well as any 
on 'em." The lock-string is a lanyard connected with the 
cap that fires the gun. 



AN EASY CAPTURE. 

Captain Wood, of the fourth Rhode Island regiment, was 
sailing around alone, a day or two after the occupancy of 
Carolina City, N. C, and seeing a suspicious schooner coming 
down toward the fort, he sailed alongside, and the following 
colloquy ensued : 

{ ' What kept you so long ?" queried the captain. 

" Well, bad weather, etc., etc.," responded the unsuspicious 
skipper, adding, " have the Yankees got down this way yet ?" 

"Oh, no! They're up toward Newbern, I hear." 

The captain ingratiated himself, and told them his " nice 
new clothes" were the uniform of Branch's men (rebels), who 
now were encamped at Carolina City. 

He learned their cargo was salt, etc. : they had a mail, 
dispatches, money, etc., for Colonel White, and, finally, under 
pretext of seeing the " general" at the depot, got them to 



THE ESCAPE OF THE u PLANTER." 



499 



tnake fast to the railroad pier. The skipper introduced Mr. 

, who piloted lots of vessels through our blockade, 

and two other men. The captain chatted, and drew them 
unsuspiciously into the depot, where, fortunately, General 
Parke was, and introduced the four to the general. 

" Well I I'm blowed if that ain't the smartest Yankee trick, 
yet ! "Well, I'll have to gin in," was the skipper's ejacula- 
tion. 



THE ESCAPE OF THE "PLANTER." 

A correspondent on board the gunboat Onward, on duty 
in the pert of Charleston, gives the following account of this 
important event : — 

M We have been anchored in the ship channel for some 
days, and have frequently seen a secesh steamei plying in 
and around the harbor. Well, this morning, about sunrise, 
I was awakened by the cry of ' All hands to quarters ;' and 
before I could get out, the steward knocked vigorously on 
my door: 'All hands to quarters, sir! de ram is a coming, 
sir !' I don't recollect of ever dressing myself any quicker, 
and got out on deck in a hurry. Sure enough, we could 
see, through the mist and fog, a great black object moving 
rapidly, and steadily, right at our port quarter. Not with- 
standing ' Merrimacs] Iron Rams, Turtles, and death and de- 
struction in all shapes, were instantly conjured up in the 
minds of all, yet every man worked with a determination and 
will that showed too plainly that be it a Ram, Turtle, or the 
old boy himself, he would meet with a warm reception. 
Springs were bent on, and the Onward was rapidly warping 
around so as to bring her broadside to bear on the steamer, 



500 



THE ESCAPE OF THE u PLANTER." 



that was still steadily approaching us ; and when the guna 
were brought to bear some of the men looked up at the 
Stars and Stripes, and then at the steamer, and muttered : 
' You ! if you run into us we will go down with colors fly- 
ing.' Just as No. 3 port gun was being elevated, some one 
cried out, 'I see something that looks like a white flag;' and 
sure enough there was something flying on the steamer that 
would have been white by an application of soap and water. 
As she neared us, we looked in vain for the face of a white 
man. When they discovered that we did not fire on them, 
there was a rush of contrabands out on her deck, some 
dancing, some singing, whistling, jumping, and others stood 
looking toward Fort Sumter, shaking their fists, and mut- 
tering all sorts of maledictions on Fort Sumter and the 
1 ' heart of the South 1 generally. As the steamer came under 
the stern of the Onward, a very ancient old darky stepped 
out of the crowd, and taking off his hat, said, ' Good morning 
sir ! I'se brought you some of dem old United States guDs, 
sir ! — from Fort Sumter, sir !' and all the others around him 
set up a yell — ' Hi ! dat's so ! yah !' and the antics and capers 
they cut could only be done by slaves, who, by a bold 
and successful move had gained their freedom — running a 
steamer out of a large city — passing the frowning battle- 
ments of Castle Pinckney, Forts Moultrie and Sumter. Had 
such a feat been performed by a white man, Congress would 
have passed a vote of thanks, and the public would have 
gone into ecstacies, and feted them. But to continue: As 
soon as she came up, Captain Nichols went alongside of her, 
and was joyously received on board. They all flocked 
around him, and asked eagerly, ' Has you got one of dem old 
flags, sir ?' ' "W e'd like to see him, sir !' The boat's flag was 
hauled up, and bent on the halliards of the steamer, amidst 



THE ESCAPE OF THE " PLANTER." 



501 



the greatest excitement. The male contrabands again com- 
menced dancing, singing, whistling, and cheering, and in n 
few moments out came five female contrabands and three 
children. As soon as the females came out, they commenced 
shouting — looking up to the old flag, 1 Hi ! yah ! dat's him ! 
dat's de same old fellow! I know'd him! and one rather 
good-looking one, with a very young child, elevated her 
baby over her head, and said, • Just look up dare, honey ! 
it'll do you good, I knows it will ;' and she held the infant 
close to her breast, and cut the 1 pigeon wing,' with a vim. 
across the deck, and then shook her clothes like a hen in a 
rain-storm, and settled down the happiest looking creature 
the world ever saw. 

" We learned from some of the most intelligent that they 
had been concocting this thing for three weeks. The leader 
in it was an old darky, named Eobert Small — they call him 
the 'major.' The major says they would have run two 
weeks ago, with a large number of rifle-cannon on board, but 
there was one fellow that they couldn't trust ; so they were 
compelled to postpone it. They have done very well as it 
is, for they have brought off four long thirty-two-pounders, 
one one hundred and twenty-eight-pounder rifle cannon, and 
one small mortar, besides minie rifles, ammunition, derricks, 
and a lot of apparatus used for planting heavy guns in bat- 
tery. One of the men has been on her for some time, in the 
capacity of an engineer, and another as pilot. The whole 
number on her is sixteen, viz.: eight men, five women, and 
three children. 

" The old 1 major' said he thought he'd try it, any way ; 
for if he staid there he'd get killed, and he couldn't more than 
get killed in making the attempt, and wound up by saying, 
1 1 tells you what it is, sar ! I was born under de old flag, 



502 THIRTY TREMENDOUS MINUTES. 

/ 

and I'se gitting old, and I jist feel as though I'd tike to d.<3 
under it, and all we wants of you, gentlemen, is to let us live 
under de old flag — give us a little to start on, and we will 
earn our own living. We ain't no poor, lazy niggers.' The 
steamer is now on her way to Augusta, the flag-ship on this 
station, and as she passes by the different vessels, the crews 
man the rigging, and it would do your heart good to hear 
the hearty and prolonged cheers that greet her as she is 
passing through the fleet. I have forgotten to tell you that 
the steamer is the ' Planter.' She is armed with the thirty - 
twos and a howitzer, and is the same one we have seen so 
often. The other guns and apparatus were put on board the 
day before, to be transported to a new battery they are 
building." 



THIETY TKEMENDOUS MINUTES. 

The bombardment of Fort Sumter, by the iron-clads under 
Admiral Dupont, was equally magnificent and terrible. 
Unfortunately, the Ironsides got disabled by the current at a 
most critical hour. In this plight, however, it only remained 
for Admiral Dupont to signal to the fleet to disregard the 
movements of the flagship. This he did, and the ships then 
assumed such positions as were available and they could 
gain, the whole number being at the mouth of the harbor, 
between Cumming's Point and Sullivan's Island, and opposite 
the northeast and eastern face of Fort Sumter, at distances of 
from six hundred to a thousand yards. While the manceu- 
vers of the admiral were thus going on, the enemy was not 
inactive The powerful work on Cumming's Point, named 
Battery B, opened ; the long range rifle ordnance of Fort 



THIRTY TREMENDOUS MINUTES. 



503 



Beauregard joined in; Moultrie hurled its heavy metal, the 
fifty guns lining the Eedan swelled the fire ; and the trernen 
do us armament of Sumter vomited forth its fiery hail. 

There now ensued a period of not more than thirty minutes, 
which formed the climax and white heat of the fight; for 
though, from the time when the fire was opening on the head 
of the approaching line, to the time when the retiring fleet 
passed out of the enemy's range, there was an interval of two 
hours and a half, yet the essence of the fight was shut up in 
those thirty tremendous minutes. 

The best resources of the descriptive art, are feeble to 
paint so terrific and awful a reality. Such a fire, or any 
thing even approaching it, was simply never seen before. 
The mailed ships were in the focus of a concentric fire of 
those five powerful works, from which they were removed 
only some five to eight hundred yards, and which in all could 
not have mounted less than three hundred guns, viz.: the 
finest and largest guns from the spoils of the Norfolk navy- 
yard, the splendid and heavy ten and eleven-inch guns, cast 
at the Tredegar works, and the most approved English rifled 
guns, Whitworth, and others, of the largest calibre made. 
There was something almost pathetic in the spectacle of those 
little floating circular towers, exposed to the crushing weight 
of those tons of metal, hurled against them with the terrific 
force of modern projectiles, and with such charges of powder 
as were never before dreamed of in artillery firing. During 
the climax of the fire a hundred and sixty shots were counted 
in a single minute, and the shot struck the iron-clads as fast 
as the ticking of a watch. 

It was less of the character of an ordinary artillery duel, 
and more of the proportions of a war of the Titans in the 
elder mythologies. 



504 



a sailor's story. 



A SAILOR'S STOEY. 

On the 10th. of April, 1862, a month after the great naval 
fight in Hampton Roads, there was a grand reception in New 
York of the surviving heroes of the Congress and the Cum- 
berland. 

In the course of the evening Mr. Willard, one of the sail- 
ors on the Congress, gave, in his vigorous way, an account 
of the action, as follows : — 

"Gentlemen and ladies: I am not acquainted with this 
kind of speaking. 1 am not used to it. I have been too 
long in a man-of-war. I enlisted in a man-of-war when I 
was thirteen years of age. I am now forty. I have been in 
one ever since. We had been a long time in the Congress, 
waiting for the Merrimac, with the Cumberland. I claim a 
timber-head in both ships. I belonged to the Cumberland in 
the destroying of the navy yard and the ships at Norfolk. 
On the 8th of March, when the Merrimac came out, we were 
as tickled as a boy would be with his father coming home 
with a new kite for him. [Loud laughter and applause.] 
She fired a gun at us. It went clean through the ship, and 
killed nobody. The next one was a shell. It came in at a 
port-hole, killed six men, and exploded and killed nine more. 
The next one killed ten. Then she went down to the Cum- 
oerland. She had an old grudge against her, and she took 
her hog-fashion, as I should say. [Great laughter.] The 
Cumberland fought her as long as she could. She fired her 
spar-deck guns at her after her gun-deck was under water, 
but the shot had no more effect than peas. She sunk the 
Cumberland in about seven fathoms of water. You know 
what a fathom is — six feet. We lay in nine fathoms ; and it 
would not do to sink in that. We slipped our cable, and 



A sailor's story. 



505 



ran into shallower water to get our broadside on the Merri- 
mac, but we got her bows on. That gave them a chance to 
rake us as they did. The commander opened a little port-hole 
and said: 1 Smith, will you surrender the ship?' Sajs he, 
1 No, not as long as I have got a gun, or a man to man it.' 
They fired a broadside. The men moved the dead bodies 
away, and manned the guns again. They fired another 
broadside, and dismounted both the guns, and killed the 
crews. When they first went by us, they set us afire by a 
shell exploding near the magazine. I know where the mag- 
azine is — you folks don't. Last broadside she killed our 
commander, Mr. Smith, our sailing-master, and the pilot. 
We had no chance at all. We were on the spar-deck — most 
of us — the other steamers firing at us, and we dodging the 
shot. No chance to dodge down below, because you could 
not see the shot till they were inside of the ship. We had 
no chance, and we surrendered. The rebel officers — we 
k lowed 'em all — all old playmates, shipmates — came home 
ii i the Germantown with them — all old playmates, but rascals 
now. She left us, and she went toward Norfolk to get out 
of the way. She returned in the morning to have what I'd 
c&ll a 1 fandango' with the Minnesota ; and the first thing she 
knowed, the little bumble-bee, the Monitor, was there, and 
she went back. I have no more to say, people ; but there is 
the flag that the fathers of our country left us, and, by the 
powers of God above us, we'll—" 

The brave soldier's closing sentence was broken off by 
long and repeated cheers from the audience. 



5u6 



A SHZ1L C;: ECAZI ..EI? 



A SHELL OX BOAKD SHIP. 

A shell from a rifled cannon must be a very nice visitor 
to "drop in n to a small party, if we may judge from the 
exploits of one which struck the United States steamer 
Massachusetts, off Ship island, and which a writer who was 
on board describes as follows : — 

•■ Daring the action I think we hit her, the Florida, four 
times, and I know she hit us once with a sixty-eight pound 
rifle shell (that is the way we got the exact size of her rifled 
gun). The shell entered on our starboard quarter, just 
above the iron part of the hull ; it came through the side, 
angling afb (as we were a little abaft her beam when it struck 
us), and took the deck in the passage way between two state- 
rooms, and completely cut off eighteen of the deck planks, 
and then struck a beam, which canted it up a little, so that 
it took the steam-heating pipes under our dining-table, cut- 
ting off five of them, and tearing our dining-table all to 
pieces — then went through the state-room, bulkhead, and 
ceiling of the ship on the opposite side, and struck one of 
the outside timbers, and broke every plank abreast of it short 
oi£ from the spar to the gun deck : it then fell down on to 
the cabin deck and exploded, knocking four state-rooms into 
one, breaking ail the glass and crockery ware, shattering the 
cabin very badly, breaking up the furniture, and setting fire 
to the ship ; but we had three streams of water upon the fire 
at very short notice, and put it out before it did any damage — 
keeping up our chase as though nothing had happened/ 5 

A letter from the surgeon of the Massachusetts, Dr. John 
IL Mackie, gives information that he was the only person 
wounded by this destructive visitor. He was struck by a 
splinter on the shin. 



AT PORT ROYAL. 



AT POET EOYAL. 

BY JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 

The tent-lights glimmer on the land, 

The ship-lights on the sea ; 
The night-wind smooths with drifting sand 

Our track on lone Tybee. 

At last our grating keels outslide, 
Our good boats forward swing ; 

And while we ride the land-locked tide, 
Our negroes row and sing, 

For dear the bondman holds his gifts 

Of music and of song — 
The gold that kindly Nature sifts 

Among his sands of wrong ; — 

The power to make his toiling days 
And poor home-comforts please ; 

The quaint relief of mirth that plays 
With sorrow's minor keys. 

Another glow than sunset's fire 
Has filled the West with light, 

Where field and garner, barn and byre 
Are blazing through the night. 

The land is wild with fear and hate ; 

The rout runs mad and fast ; 
From hand to hand, from gate to gate. 

The flaming brand is passed. 

The lurid glow falls strong across 

Dark faces broad with smiles ; 
Not theirs the terror, hate, and loss 

That fire yon blazing piles. 



508 



AT PORT ROYAL. 



With oar-strokes timing to their song, 

They weave in simple lays 
The pathos of remembered wrong, 

The hope of better days ; — 

The triumph-note that Miriam sung, 

The joy of uncaged birds : 
Softening with Afric's mellow tongue 

Their broken Saxon words. 

SONG OP THE NEGRO BOATMAN. 

O, praise an' tanks I De Lord he come 

To set de people free ; 
An' massa tink it day ob doom, 

An' we ob jubilee. 
De Lord, dat heap de Red Sea waves, 

He jus' as 'trong as den ; 
He say de word : we las' night slaves 
To-day de Lord's free men 1 

De yam will grow, de cotton blow, 

We'll hab de rice and corn ; 
nebber you fear, if nebber you hear 
De driver blow his horn ! 

Ole massa on he trabbles gone ; 

He leaf de land behind : 
De Lord's breff blow him furder on, 

Like corn shuk in de wind. 
We own de hoe, we own de plough, 

We own de hands dat hold ; 
We sell de pig, we sell de cow, 
But neber chile be sold. 

De yam will grow, de cotton blow, 

We'll hab de rice an' corn ; 
nebber you fear, if nebber you hear 
De driver blow his horn ! 



AT PORT ROYAL. 



We pray de Lord ; he gib us signs 

Dat some day we be free ; 
De norf wind tell it to de pines, 

De wild-duck to de sea ; 
We tink it when de church-bell ring, 

We dream it in de dream ; 
De rice-bird mean it when he sing, 
De eagle when he scream. 

De yam will grow, de cotton blow, 

We'll hab de rice an' corn ; 
nebber you fear, if nebber you hear 
De driver blow his horn ! 

We know his promise nebber fail, 

An' nebber lie de word : 
So, like de 'postles in de jail, 

We waited for de Lord ; 
An' now he open ebery door, 

An' trow away de key ; 
He tink we lub him so before, 
We lub him better free. 

De yam will grow, de cotton blow, 

He'll gib de rice an' corn 
nebber you fear, if nebber you hear 
De driver blow his horn ! 

So sing our dusky gondoliers ; 

And with a secret pain, 
And smiles that seem akin to tears 

We hear the wild refrain. 

We dare not share the negro's trust 

Nor yet his hope deny ; 
We only know that God is just, 

And every wrong shall die. 



510 



"DEM ROTTEN SHELL." 



Rude seems the song ; each swarthy face, 

Flame-lighted, ruder still ; 
We start to think that hapless race 

Must shape our good or ill ; — 

That laws of changeless justice bind 

Oppressor with oppressed ; 
And close as sin and suffering joined, 

We march to fate abreast. 

Sing on, poor hearts ! your chant shall be 
Our sign of blight or bloom, — 

The vala-song of Liberty,. 
Or death-rune of our doom ! 



"DEM KOTTEN SHELL." 

An officer in the Mississippi fleet is authority for the fol- 
lowing : — After the battle and capture of Forts Henry and 
Donelson, the fleet were lying at Cairo. The prisoners were 
passing the fleet, and among them there was a contraband, an 
old servant of one of the officers. In passing the " Essex" 
he shook his head, and remarked, " I doesn't like dat one- 
pipe boat, for when she cum along and throwed dem rotten 
shell ob hers we couldn't stan' it no longer ; den massa run, 
and after dat I leff, too I" Just previous to the battle I had 
filled my shells with an incendiary matter of my own inven- 
tion, which had not the most agreeable smell, and hence the 
old darkey's remark. I used the same shell in my attack 
and destruction of the Arkansas. 



SECRETS of THE 
GREAT CITY. 

A WORK DESCRIPTIVE OF THE VIRTUES AND 
THE VICES, THE MYSTERIES, MISERIES, 
AND CRIMES OF NEW YORK CITY. 

BY EDWARD WINSLOW MARTIN. 



ILLUSTRATED WITH 35 FINE ENGRAVINGS. 



The Author of this work needs no endorsement ; his long residence in 
New York, and intimate acquaintance with Metropolitan life in all its varied 
phases, peculiarly fit him for the preparation of such a work. 

It Tells How Fortunes are Made and Cost in a 33ay, 

How Shrewd Men are Ruined in Wall Street, 

How 44 Countrymen '? are Swindled by Sharpers, 

How Ministers and Merchants are Black-mailed, 

How Dance-Halls and Concert-Saloons are Managed, 

How Gambling-Houses and Lotteries are Conducted, 

How Stock, and Oil Companies Originate, and how 

the Bubbles Burst. 

.A. IN" ZD TIR-IE^TS 

Of New York, its People, its Society, its Rich, its Poor, their life, their 

habits, their haunts, and their peculiarities. 
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Rail Roads, Shipping, Steamers, Ferries, Docks, Sewers, Armories, 

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Sample-Rooms, Club and Dance-Houses. 



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Of Fifth Avenue, Broadway, the Bowery, Chatham Street, the Five Points, 
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As the Metropolitan Centre of the United States, New York City reflects 
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